Recently, Low found its way into the #1 spot on Pitchforkmedia’s list of the Top 100 albums of the 1970s. This was an obvious choice for Pitchfork, following in their history of getting things wrong. Low isn’t even David Bowie’s best album, yet alone the best album of the 1970s. It is a great piece of art that broke barriers of merging rock and pop with Kraftwerk style synth, but the 1970s and Bowie’s career had both seen more interesting moments.
Low was part of the famed “Berlin Trilogy” in which Bowie worked with former Roxy Music keyboardist Brian Eno to make avant-garde music that changed history. But like almost everything else Eno gets his hands on, by the end of the album, you really don’t care that the album was groundbreaking, because you’re bored out of your skull. Eno and Bowie do some brilliant things, but after synth driven instrumental after synth driven instrumental they all start to sound the same. The beginning of the album is its best with songs like “Breaking Glass” and the instrumental opener “Speed Of Light.” They put their best instrumental first so as to give the listener a chance to hear how brilliant they actually are before nodding off. (Note: it’s also the shortest instrumental). “What in the world” and “Sound and Vision” are amazing songs that could have fit right in on Bowie’s superior Station to Station, (which, if you’re keeping a record, did not appear on Pitchfork’s list at all).
The album goes on with great songs like the Morrissey-esque titled “Always Crashing In The Same Car” and the soul revamp “Be My Wife.” It’s after that that the instrumentals begin. They start out harmless with the carefree “A New Career In A New Town” keeps attention pretty well, but by the next song, “Warszawa” (which, at a point sounds like a Gregorian Chant), the instrumentals lose their attention grabbing power. It’s almost like there was never a break between songs when we get to “Art Decade,” and by “Weeping Wall” you’re weeping in hopes that they would get on with this.
Low is a great album; it is just an overrated album-at least the second half is. The first half is full of great songs that could be listened to over and over for jolly fun. After listening to the second half once, you’ll either be depressed or asleep. Leave it to Pitchfork to want to make us depressed.
-Billy Florio
