Concorde2, 16th April

Despite the struggle of tonight’s compere to pronounce their name, Oregon’s The Helio Sequence appeared coolly from the vestry, setting up their nominal equipment as the audience settled in hard pews.

Formed of the understated Brandon Summer and sometime Modest Mouser Benjamin Weikel, the electronica-tinged two-piece possessed more than a passing whiff of Sub Pop label mates Band of Horses as their set developed. Drummer and laptop-tweaker Weikel displayed a sequence of gurns and facial contortions throughout; rattling out an inventive, unruly backbone to Summer’s ringing Telecaster and the laptop’s sentient samples. The beautiful ‘Lately’, with its refrain of “I don’t need you anymore” resonated to the furthest reaches of the high-ceilinged church. As a companion of mine sagely noted, it felt as if we were watching a reformed version of The Postal Service after a 20-year hiatus. A gentle performance that was nevertheless enthralling and affecting.

With the kind of zeal usually reserved for a church wedding, the arrival of Low, three smartly-dressed Americans, was met with an auspicious round of applause from the audience. My first thought upon entering: surely the plain fact that the band are (at least) two-thirds practicing Mormons make a gig set in a non-Mormon place of worship slightly odd?

Who cares anyway; Low were happy to be here. Guitarist and lead vocalist Alan Sparhawk adopted the guise of troupe’s ringleader, the others watching his movements throughout. The striking, vocal harmonies between the maternal percussionist Mimi Parker and Sparhawk that make songs such as ‘Silver Rider’ and the rising crescendo of ‘Pissing’ especially appear effortless. ‘Sunflower’ was painfully overwhelming; such was its purity and splendour. While their marriage remains offstage, they offered the merest glimpse as Sparhawk fumbled with his guitar and Mimi softly enquired “Did you hurt yourself?” The unsullied and handsome Steve Garrington, who recently replaced bassist Matt Livingston, danced a slow waltz with his instrument, his masterful fingers rigid and straight.

Tonight, the minimalism of which we have come to expect from Low has grown considerably. Their compositions remain sparse and beautiful, but in this remarkable venue it’s almost as if they are able to stretch their legs; to grow like the plume of smoke from a fire. 

Words by Matthew Harfield
Photographs by Katie Freestone