{"product_id":"alan-sparhawk-white-roses-my-god-loser-edition","title":"ALAN SPARHAWK - White Roses, My God (Loser Edition)","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"color: #ff0000;\" mce-data-marked=\"1\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eLP - Limited Loser Edition Crystal Clear Vinyl (first pressing only). Alan Sparhawk of Low’s solo debut for Sub Pop and his first album since the tragic 2022 loss of his wife and partner in Low, Mimi Parker.\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eAlan Sparhawk\u003c\/strong\u003e has always been a prolific, protean musician. A restless soul eager to explore unfamiliar sonic and psychic terrain. Though he’s obviously (and justifiably) best-known for his thirty years as frontman of the legendary band \u003cstrong\u003eLow\u003c\/strong\u003e, a look at Sparhawk’s many side projects across that same span of time shows him experimenting with everything from punk and funk to production work and improvisation. Low itself never settled for a set sound or approach. The band was always a collaboration—a conversation, a romance—between Sparhawk and his wife, \u003cstrong\u003eMimi Parker\u003c\/strong\u003e, who was the band’s co-founder, drummer, co-lead vocalist, and its blazing irreplaceable heart. To take the journey from Low’s hushed early work, through the tremendous melodies of their middle period, all the way to the late lush chaos of their final albums, is to witness heads, hearts, and spirits in an act of perpetual becoming.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eParker passed away in 2022 after a long battle with cancer, and there is no question that \u003cem\u003eWHITE ROSES, MY GOD\u003c\/em\u003e is a record borne of grief. You can hear it in the title, as well as tracks such as “\u003cem\u003eHeaven\u003c\/em\u003e”, in which Sparhawk describes the afterlife, wrenchingly, as “a lonely place if you’re alone.” You can sense it too in Sparhawk’s decision to create this thing entirely on his own: every note, every lyric, every programmed beat. It would be reductive, even foolish, to see grief as the sole source or the final limit of this taut, brilliant, provocative, thrilling album, whose bold experimentation is powered by profound lyrics and propulsive beats.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOf the album’s composition,\u003cstrong\u003e Sparhawk\u003c\/strong\u003e had this to say:\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“The kids had the drum machine and a microphone set up in the studio. They’d have their friends over sometimes, and they’d record themselves taking turns free-styling. I brought them a synth and a voice pitch affect to have more options to mess with but before long, my curiosity won, and I found myself secretly stabbing around at possibilities with the unfamiliar tools, improvising, turning knobs until something would hit and a song would form. In hindsight, I can see now that it must have been what needed to come out of me, but at the time it felt like chaos and naïveté-even a little desperate. It kept tapping into a part of me that I’ve come to trust, so I kept recording.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I found that the sounds and the rigidity demanded a certain structure, a framework, and I was trying to improvise songs within that framework. Which meant that the things that were organic had this freedom to be even more non-regimented. I really respect the moment when the music instigates transcendence. The vocals ended up being this very spontaneous, visceral engine. There’s a moment when something comes out of your mouth that you didn’t know was going to come out, and then it turns into something else. And something else. And it shakes you. Because what just came out was more precise and accurate and organized than anything you could have come up with. There’s magic in it because it is from the moment that it was created.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Can you feel something here?” Sparhawk asks on “\u003cem\u003eFeel Something\u003c\/em\u003e.” The line repeats over and over, evolving first into “I want to feel something here” and then “Can you help me feel something here?” Meanwhile the musical means he’s chosen to convey this message—especially the pitch-shifter—might seem at first like they’re making it harder to access that very something he wants us (and himself) to feel. Isn’t the vocoder a barrier between us and the deep emotionality we’ve long associated with an Alan Sparhawk vocal? Maybe, maybe not. Probably not. But even if it is, then it’s a barrier worth breaking and the music itself is the hammer. Sparhawk conjures forth the ghosts trapped inside these machines. \u003cem\u003eWHITE ROSES, MY GOD\u003c\/em\u003e is an exorcism whose purpose is not to banish the spirit but to set it free.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eTrying to trace influences is a dodgy business, and fishing for comp titles is even worse. But let’s say you’re looking for forebears and fellow travelers to help situate \u003cem\u003eWHITE ROSES, MY GOD\u003c\/em\u003e. Just to start with a curveball, how about \u003cstrong\u003eChildish Gambino\u003c\/strong\u003e, whose “\u003cem\u003eMe and Your Mama\u003c\/em\u003e”, Sparhawk has been known to cover live with \u003cstrong\u003eThe Derecho Rhythm Section\u003c\/strong\u003e, the funk quartet he plays in with his son? Or what about upstart weirdos extraordinaire \u003cstrong\u003e100 Gecs\u003c\/strong\u003e? Are those nods to fellow-Minnesotan \u003cstrong\u003ePrince\u003c\/strong\u003e (maybe the Camille songs in particular?) in song titles like “\u003cem\u003eNot the 1\u003c\/em\u003e” and “\u003cem\u003eCan U Hear\u003c\/em\u003e”?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd let’s not forget Sparhawk’s regional compatriot, the great \u003cstrong\u003eNeil Young\u003c\/strong\u003e. Forget the border for a second: from Duluth, it’s 150 miles south to Minneapolis, but it’s only 190 miles north to Thunder Bay, Ontario. There’s always been a healthy dose of Young in Sparhawk’s music—see for instance the \u003cstrong\u003eLow+Dirty Three\u003c\/strong\u003e cover of “\u003cem\u003eDown by the River\u003c\/em\u003e”—but wait until you hear the next solo record after this one, recorded with \u003cstrong\u003eTrampled by Turtles\u003c\/strong\u003e as his backing band and featuring a totally different arrangement of “\u003cem\u003eHeaven\u003c\/em\u003e.” \u003cem\u003eWHITE ROSES, MY GOD\u003c\/em\u003e might remind you of Young’s 1982 album, \u003cem\u003eTrans\u003c\/em\u003e, and if that sounds like a backhanded compliment then you probably haven’t heard it lately. Young recorded Trans in part as an homage to Kraftwerk; in part as a way to connect with his severely autistic son, whose love of computers helped him learn to communicate; and in part just to say, I don’t have to be who you think I am. Hell, I don’t even have to be who I think I am! \u003cem\u003eTrans \u003c\/em\u003eis a visionary record that has aged beautifully and buried its skeptics. So will \u003cem\u003eWHITE ROSES, MY GOD\u003c\/em\u003e.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIn many ways \u003cem\u003eWHITE ROSES, MY GOD\u003c\/em\u003e feels like a hard break with the past, almost a debut. And yet there’s incredible continuity with Sparhawk’s past work and his traditional ways of working. He’s pathbreaking, yet again, invested as ever in the endless process of becoming himself. As he puts it on “\u003cem\u003eStation\u003c\/em\u003e”: “I can please myself with the things I seek out.” Us, too. We are lucky to be here to hear it as it happens. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Sub Pop","offers":[{"title":"LP - Crystal Clear Vinyl","offer_id":48697031164249,"sku":"SDZ-00776","price":26.99,"currency_code":"EUR","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0588\/3455\/0945\/files\/Alan_Sparhawk_-_White_Roses__My_God_-_LP_Loser_Edition_Crystal_Clear_Vinyl_-_2024.jpg?v=1721138850","url":"https:\/\/spindizzyrecords.com\/products\/alan-sparhawk-white-roses-my-god-loser-edition","provider":"Spindizzy Dublin","version":"1.0","type":"link"}