Alan Sparhawk

Man, this Alan Sparhawk guy. What a legacy, huh?

For nearly thirty years, until the untimely passing from cancer of his partner in life and music Mimi Parker brought an equally untimely end to the band, slowcore OGs Low could seemingly do no wrong. They are, I think, one of the rare cases where a band’s later, genre-defying music arguably eclipses its earlier genre-defining output. Nowadays, people are seemingly more likely to cite 2005’s comparatively tumultuous The Great Destroyer or 2021’s noisy swan song HEY WHAT as career high points than they are the formative discs on Vernon Yard and Kranky that built the group’s rep. To the end, Low were never risk-averse and more than a little contrary in their adoption and use of technology, qualities that added a lesser layer of tragedy to Parker’s passing. It was clear they still had gas in the tank.

All of this is to be respected, of course. Especially if you like Low’s music. But the thing is, I never did. Nor did I ‘get’ it. I was more of a Bedhead guy. After years of listening to Low albums that I could tell were interesting but could never enjoy aesthetically or connect with in any meaningful way, I became a Low hater. For me, these were impossible albums to love and it became impossible for me to understand how anyone else could love them and do so with such devotion. But by the end of their run, age and maybe even a little wisdom had softened my antipathy. By HEY WHAT, I was what you might call a begrudging Low respecter. 

Anyway, like some sicko, I decided that reviewing Alan Sparhawk’s second post-Low ‘solo’ album, With Trampled By Turtles, might afford me the opportunity to revisit and properly reckon with Low. Check out the band’s back catalogue for context, try – once again – to find something to love. But also: WHY? Why am I so hung up on Duluth’s finest? I think I’m stuck on this notion that not only should I love Low, but that, under the right circumstances, I could love Low. So, I set out on a journey of self-discovery with an open mind and an open heart.

Welp, fast forward a few weeks and it turns out I can’t love Low. I’m just not into it. But I am undeterred and I’m not sure it even matters much when approaching With Trampled By Turtles, which is a clear aesthetic swerve from late-era Low into big-sky, northern plains Americana, courtesy of Sparhawk’s backing band, the titular Trampled By Turtles, who provide a bluegrass-inspired bed of instrumentation and deep harmonies upon which Sparhawk can rest his weary and weathered voice.

Still, the outcome of this pairing is an uneven affair, with deep troughs and high peaks. When the songwriting misses the mark, the album skews dated and slight and slightly corny, as on opener ‘Stranger’, the musical equivalent of an Obama baseball cap – the sort of stuff NPR daytime music programmers dream of. Later, ‘Get Still’ has the almost nonsensical vibe of an ‘80s college rocker – not quite Camper Van Beethoven, but closer than one might expect. Truth be told, the album doesn’t really find its footing until four tracks in, with the defiant, sad ‘Not Broken’. One of a trio of songs conceived with Parker before her death, it features sparse, lovely fiddle and banjo accompaniment, with guest vocals and harmonies from the couple’s daughter, Hollis.

The album’s peaks are highest when it deals openly and directly with unfathomable loss. ‘Screaming Song’ is a clear highlight. It’s a still-raw expression of grief that plays out over weeping, caterwauling fiddle. The slow, minimal ‘Don’t Take Your Light’ could as easily be about losing one’s faith as about losing a loved one. It, too, features ragged, rusty strings that by this point in the record act as a Greek chorus, shrieking out in sorrow while Sparhawk more or less restrains himself. Closer, ‘Torn & In Ashes’ is calmer, bordering on resigned, but no less affecting. Taken together, these gut-punch songs form the emotional core of the record. As delivered by Sparhawk & co. they are triggering and unforgettable. They feel truly felt in a way that some of the tracks on With Trampled By Turtles don’t.

Referenced artists

Low
The Strange World Of… Low

Which sucks but is also kinda understandable. Listen, I’m no ghoul. I don’t want Sparhawk to be The Grief Guy. But I also get how trauma bleeds out into everything we do. How it can be the thing we feel most genuinely. At just past ten o’clock, a little over four years ago, a freak, medical anomaly nearly took my partner of almost twenty years. Doctors had to bring her back. They called it a miracle. I’m lapsed as far as Catholics go, but during the hours and days she was in and out of surgery, the weeks she was in hospital, I prayed harder and longer than I ever have in my life. I didn’t know what else to do. Even now, I relive what happened most days, in one way or another, and as a couple we’re still dealing with the medical and psychological aftereffects of it all. But my partner is still here. I can hold her. I can’t imagine what Sparhawk’s been through, the depths of that trauma. I do know, though, that my high opinion of ‘Screaming Song’ is less than cold comfort in the face of it. My hope is that writing these songs and performing them with friends and family was healing in some way, and I think it’s possible that they could help others as an expression of something they might not be able to articulate. Nevertheless, they are certainly beautiful in their sadness.

Ultimately, I think the reason it feels so bad not to love Low is that on some level, to me, Low represent the creative potential of love, of family, of community, of faith. To reject the artistic outcome of all that feels, however irrationally, like a rejection of it. By that same token, it feels decidedly less than good to walk away from Alan Sparhawk’s With Trampled By Turtles – an album built using that very same scaffolding – with mixed feelings and reservations. That said, despite its faults, as a testament to love enduring after loss, it rings out loudly, clearly. And really, that’s what we’ll remember.