Walking into Great Scott Thursday night, I realized that I had never seen Alan Sparhawk perform with anyone other than minimalist icons Low, and the last time I had the pleasure was a good five years ago. So expectations for the evening ahead were high.
There’s something about Great Scott. I don’t know if it’s the fact that you can find the headlining band hanging out at the bar prior to their set or if it’s the cheaper-than-usual pints of Guinness or maybe it’s the sheer intimacy of the room. Either way, I have yet to see a bad show at this Allston haunt.
Boston’s own Girlfriends opened the night with a tight and engaging set of their brand of lo-fi fuzz-pop, led by their frantic and bespectacled guitarist. The young trio managed to win the room over with tracks from their self-released Our Very First Cassette, and left me wondering if I still had that old boom box in my garage.
The sharply dressed Retribution Gospel Choir continued the theme set up by their opener and upped the ante with an aural assault of Crazy–Horse inspired hard rock. Alan Sparhawk, still sporting his Neil Young-like mutton chops featured in the "Hide it Away" video, swayed back and forth during "Poor Man’s Daughter" amidst a sea of feedback, pounding drums, and Steve Garrington throbbing bass grooves.
As I scanned the room, I was taken in by the crowd’s response to the performance; the girl next to me sang every word of every song, and another guy was jumping up and down pounding his feet in appreciation. This was pretty far removed from the quiet respectful crowds at any Low shows I’ve seen, but I relished in it.
The set slowed at one point when Sparhawk broke strings on both of his Les Pauls. In his usual workman-like demeanor, he restrung his instrument mid-song and continued unwavered.
The night’s best moment came during "Electric Guitar" off the just released 2 (Sub-Pop). The sinister song filled the small room at Great Scott with its sprawling ebb and flows.
As I exited the building into a frigid January night I noticed the ringing in my ears, a clanging reminder of the dynamic and powerful live performance I had just witnessed.
