Low

`Excuse me, but could you write a little more quietly? We're trying to listen to a rock band

`Excuse me, but could you write a little more quietly? We're trying to listen to a rock band." It seems unlikely that the rustling of a journalist's notebook could possibly drown out a band onstage, but when the aptly-named Low played the Olympia last Tuesday night, every turn of the page sounded like the crinkling of sheet aluminium. Luckily, no-one actually did ask me to shush, probably because they were too busy shuffling uncomfortably in their own seats.

The Duluth, Minnesota trio demand silent attention to their low-volume tunes, a tall order for us busy urbanites. Guitarist/singer Alan Sparhawk and his wife, drummer/singer Mimi Parker, are Mormons, and there's an ascetic, stoic quality to their slow-marching lo-fi tunes. It proved too demanding for some members of the audience, who sneaked out of the venue under cover of the applause. Those of us who stuck it out were rewarded by the sparse beauty of Whitetail, Laser Beam, Sunflower, Closer and Dinosaur Act, some of the better tracks from their excellent album, Things We Lost In The Fire. We also could appreciate the understated brilliance of Parker's voice, not a million county lines removed from The Cowboy Junkies' Margot Tinley. Indeed, it felt a bit like Low were paying tribute to the Trinity Sessions, treating each tune with church-like reverence, and playing their instruments with the stilted pace of a priestly ritual.

While their low-volume music sounds heavenly on CD, watching them onstage felt like being suspended in a rock 'n' roll flotation tank, with only the rustling of the notebook to connect to the noisy world outside.

Kevin Courtney

Kevin Courtney

Kevin Courtney is an Irish Times journalist