DIRTY THREE – TOWARD THE LOW SUN

Since first spied huddled in the corner of a small cafe in Fitzroy, the Dirty Three have traveled the world countless times over the course of the last two decades (so much so it ages me badly to contemplate it); their guitar, drums and violin instrumentals still defying classification. It has been some seven years since their last release, and it is hard not to listen to the opening Furnace Skies with its rolling dissonance and unresolved tension and here three guys getting back together and shaking off the rust and any personal differences. But if that’s your line, then you have to note that it is followed by Sometimes I Forget You’ve Gone, a tender piece that verges on reconciliation and is bright and hopeful. Indeed as broody and tumultuous as their early work was, Towards the Low Sun is tender and considerate, tender as one is when dealing with something so fragile that it may at any moment be blown apart. That is not to say they don’t let loose, Rising Below has echoes of the Velvet Underground’s Black Angel’s Death Song (not considered one of their most soothing moments) and That Was Was just rocks, full stop. But their great moments on here are the quiet ones, and Ashen Snow, with its beautiful piano lines and mournful violin, rising like the sun breaking through the clouds, is the highlight.

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