Matt Montgomery

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Top 40 '90s albums, #33: Low — Secret Name

· #music#top 40 '90s albums

Sometimes it’s hard to believe that Low’s Secret Name was released in 1999. One of my first introductions to ‘slowcore’ — a genre name that’s as much a joke as it is an accurate descriptor, this isn’t so much brooding as it is contemplative. There’s no sense of being intentionally accessible on this album, but it’s also never particularly aggressive. The songs blend together, but they grow into distinctive efforts. This isn’t a quiet band, particularly, though they have their quiet moments.

Low’s music always makes me feel something — whatever that something is at the time, it’s not really important. It might make me feel contemplative, like the music. It might make me feel reflective. It might calming, or it might heighten anxiety. I don’t know what it is about Low, but their music always adds something to my day.

This is also a deeply spiritual album, but it doesn’t ever feel like a deeply religious album — even though it may be textually religious, and it certainly is. That spiritualism is always buried under a few layers; layers of guitar, of metaphor, of sound make Low’s sound uniquely captivating. Low’s religious proclivities are obvious here, from the album’s title to tracks like “Missouri,” “Weight of Water,” and “Days Of,” among others. That the music speaks so broadly tells us of Low’s musical talent. This album is bolstered by the talents of Steve Albini, the legendary producer and engineer.

I had several opportunities to see Low in concert. I never took any of those opportunities. That’s something I still wish I’d done. I don’t regret it, because I just can’t regret every band I missed seeing, but I suspect that would’ve been as intense an experience as listening to Secret Name always is.

I suspect this is my favorite Low album, but their work spans three decades so capably. There are so many great Low albums — The Curtain Hits the Cast, which was my first exposure; 2001’s Things We Lost in the Fire; 2005’s The Great Destroyer; 2013’s The Invisible Way — and so much more. Maybe it’s time I embark on a little bit of a tour through their discography, revisit it.

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