La strada che divide Pavia da una Interstate del Midwest americano, o da un sentiero polveroso dell'Arizona, persino da una locanda malfamata di Belfast, non è poi così lunga e impercorribile, basta soltanto far viaggiare la fantasia e smuovere il cuore di qualche musicista, incontrandosi nel tragitto. Questo è stato forse il segreto che ha portato la numerosa comitiva dei Lowlands (la voce e le chitarre acustiche di Edward Abbiati, il basso di Simone Fratti, il violino di Chiara Giacobbe, le chitarre di Francesco Verrastro, Stefano Speroni e Simone Prunetti, la batteria di Paolo Maggi) a fare tesoro delle amicizie nate fra i palchi italiani di qualche tournè in provincia: ecco allora che le canzoni di Edward Abbiati sono diventate la scusa per una pacca sulla spalla ed un giro di bevute con Mike Brenner, James Cruickshank, Nick Barker, Richard Hunter, Chris Cacavas ed altri ancora, tutti impegnati a dare forma a questo sorpredente The Last Call. Copertina uggiosa, gocce di pioggia e nubi autunnali, che sospignono un roots rock dalle tonalità crepuscolari, fra ballate che ricordano il deserto dei Richmond Fontaine, bizze elettriche che recuperano l'anima fuorilegge del Paisley Underground e un folk rock dai sapori antichi e annaffiati di Irlanda. Un disco colmo di passione e di piccoli dettagli, ma anche di gran mestiere nel trattare ogni intersezione fra radici e rock'n'roll, tutto ciò nonostante il luogo comune che non si possa indossare un simile vestito se non si è del tutto americani. Chi va dicendo una simile idiozia, se poi Ghost in This Town e What Can I Do sembrano sbucare all'improvviso da un vecchio vinile dei Green On Red? Le liriche di Edward Abbiati hanno le giuste cadenze nostalgiche, piene di rimorsi e voglia di riscatto, roba da autentico "loner" di periferia, a cui la band adatta un suono in partenza vivace e virato all'alternative country (incantevole in tal senso You can Never Go Back, con la pedal steel di Brenner), strada facendo sempre più adagiato su tramonti rosso fuoco ed un country-folk asciutto e spartano. Escono allora allo scoperto la magica armonica di Richard Hunter, una diatonica che veste di velluto Like a Rose e 38th & Lawton, mentre l'aggiunta del violino di Chiara Giacobbe imbratta con una lontana eco western la deliziosa Leaving NYC. Gli accenti si fanno rarefatti e la voce di Edward, sofferta e adatta al ruolo, prende il sentiero del deserto, quello che fa sembrare i Lowlands l'ultima scoperta del sottobosco roots americano, fra il cullare dolce di Lately e la desolazione di That's Me on the Page, qui davvero non dissimili dallo stile dei citati Richmond Fontaine di Willy Vlautin. Eppure i Lowlands hanno sufficiente personalità per non apparire affatto un rifacimento qualsiasi: tra il nervoso, pulsante scalciare elettrico di una livida Friday Night e il folk rock corale di In the End riportano l'ago della bilancia verso l'elettricità più plateale. Un piccolo scrigno di suoni americani dalla provincia...italiana!
(Fabio Cerbone)

http://www.rootshighway.it/italy/italy.htm

Rootshighway (english translation)

The road between Pavia and a lonely Interstate in the American Midwest, or a dusty desert road in Arizona, or a dive bar in Belfast, is not that long or impossible to ride on. You just need to let your imagination roam, and move the hearts of a few fellow musicians you meet along the way.
This may well be the secret formula for Lowlands, (voice and guitars of Edward Abbiati, Simone Fratti on bass, Chiara Giacobbe's violin, and the guitars of Francesco Verrastro, Stefano Speroni, and Simone Prunetti, the drums of Paolo Maggi) whose friendships were forged on various stages and bars in provincial Italy. Edward’s songs provided the impetus and perfect excuse for another round of drinks and a friendly slap on the shoulder, while recruiting the likes of Mike Brenner, James Cruickshank, Nick Barker, Richard Hunter and Chris Cavacas to lend a hand on this surprising debut album: The Last Call.
The dark cover, with raindrops on a windshield and autumnal clouds, sets the tone for the “end of the day” theme to this roots rock record. Sprawling ballads which evoke the desert so dear to Richmond Fontaine, electric rockers recalling the outlaw spirit of the Paisley Underground, and folk rock reminiscent of old times and even Irish influences are to be found here. This is a record full of passion and attention to detail, which treats the crossovers between roots music and rock and roll with taste and dignity, and belies the old adage that only those of American birth can tap into the roots of Americana. Songs like “Ghosts in this town” and “What can I do” could have come right off an old Green on Red vinyl record. Edward Abbiati’s lyrics have the perfect nostalgic tone, full of remorse for the past and the will to rise again, like a true loner haunting the darkness on the edge of town.
The band initially adopts a lively sound that leans towards Alternative Country (like the lovely “You can never go back” with Mike Brenner’s pedal steel to the fore) and as the record unfolds the sound moves towards blood red sunsets and a more lean, spartan, country folk feel. At this point Richard Hunter’s magical harp surfaces, providing a touch of velvet to “Like a Rose” and “38th & Lawton”, while Chiara Giacobbe’s violin lends a distant country tone to the beautiful “Leaving NYC”.
The country accents become sparser and Edward’s voice, suffering and well suited to the role, takes the desert route – the one which makes Lowlands appear to be the latest discovery from the American roots rock underworld. From the sweet rocking of “Lately” to the desolation of “That’s me on the page”, we’re in territory not too distant from the aforementioned Willy Vlautin of Richmond Fontaine. But Lowlands have enough of their own personality to not appear as merely emulators of a genre: between the palpitating, nervous, adrenalin-fuelled pulse of a livid “Friday night” and the anthemic folk-rock of “In the end” the balance is restored with completely unabashed electricity.
“The Last Call” is a treasure trove of American sounds from provincial Italy!


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Commuting on the edge blog

Don't be decieved by the Pogues / Waterboys / Floggin' Molly overtones of "Ghosts in this Town", the opener. It sets the tone for a cracking rocker that will have you tapping your feet and smiling. "What can I do" is the best song about a failing love that's become a chronic habit (and man, do I know that place he was in...) and guitar riff that Jesse Valenzuela of the Gin Blossoms never wrote, with some killer lines - top amongst which include "There's music, football and TV / And in between just you and me" and "Those days were grey / Those days were sad / Those were the happiest times that you and me ever had" - we've ALL been there...

The album takes a more introspective turn with "You can never go back" and "Like a Rose", culminating in the achingly dark, wistful and beautiful "In Between" - the latter featuring a blisteringly poignant slide guitar line from Slo-Mo (any other fans of Marah out there?) and some gorgeous harmonies. The world-class blues harp style of Richard Hunter, another former colleague of ours, comes to the fore throughout the album, too.

"Leaving NYC" evokes Bruce and Steve Earle in the same breath, Sandy's ghost to the fore. "Lately" provides a last chance to catch breath for a while - it's beautifully simple and understated, yet it grows and grows on you. It's absolutely impossible for me to be objective about "38th and Lawton" - personally my favourite track, one that makes me tear up every time I hear it - simply because I was there on 38th and Lawton in San Francisco when the song was born, all those years ago.

"Friday Night" is a natural precursor to Counting Crows "Saturday Nights" side, even if it is more Steve Wynn / Dream Syndicate influenced. Chris Cavacas (ex Green on Red, and another personal hero) adds and mixes on this, and it shows. As blistering as a handful of Long Island Ice Teas washed down with pitchers of Tequila, it's a heady concoction. "That's me on the page" sees Ed out-Duritz-ing Adam - this would not have been out of place on "Recovering The Satellites". The vocals here, in the quieter moments, could almost be Brett Anderson - and I can think of no higher personal compliment than that - emotion-laden, world weary. And "In the End", a glorious single if ever there was one, really should have been sung by Dan Stuart at a Green on Red show. In a bar, of course.... "Me, I'd rather have another liver / And you can keep my heart" - genius, pure and simple....

by John Bardwell
Taken from:
www. commutingontheedge. blogspot. com/   


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10th Avenue Music

Words like “literate” and “heartfelt” often ring like hollow clichés, but they are adjectives that demand to be used when considering Lowlands’ new album, The Last Call. Filled with songs that resonate with passion and intent, it’s an album about being resolute in the face of the challenges that life brings and holding on to the things that sustain oneself in a time of struggle. It’s a work that speaks to falling down in life, but also the possibility of recovery and rebirth.Lowlands stems from the vision of songwriter, guitarist and singer Edward Abbiati.

Moving to London in the 90’s, Edward tried, as he says, “the whole demo/playing around thing” to no avail. “The closest I got was having my demos played to an Atlantic Records exec who, even though he passed, was really nice about it,” Edward recalls. “I think London was too much fun to be able to concentrate and get something decent done.” And at the end of the 90’s, Edward sold everything he owned and traveled through Asia, settling in Australia. He moved back to Europe in September of 2001, but then was unable to find a job after the post-9/11 panic hurt the job market. Then his relationship of seven years ended. So within a few months, Ed found himself unemployed, without a relationship, a place to live or any money. It was the beginning of a dark period in Edward’s life.

“I wrote a lot of songs from that time that ended up on The Last Call,” states Edward. “I wrote it in London while I was living on friends’ sofas. I was trying to start my life fresh but it didn’t work. Nothing did. I’d get up every morning and look for work. When I didn’t find anything, I’d just write songs.” By the spring of 2003, Edward was back living in Italy and had given up on the idea of playing and recording, when he got an invitation from a friend. He recalls, “I thought it was just for a drink, but actually he had a whole band set up. It snowed as we played and it sounded good enough to allow myself to think about taking music seriously again. We kept playing together, then I found a job and I started slowly rebuilding my life. The band’s first recording was a cover of the (Austin, Texas based) Gourds song “Lowlands,” and from that they took their name.

In 2008 the band has released its debut album, The Last Call. Recorded in Italy and produced by Edward, with contributions coming from the U.S., Australia, England and Germany. From the opening acoustic guitar strums and violin (courtesy of Chiara Giacobbe) of “Ghosts In This Town,” the album immediately conjures a world of camaraderie and friendship – despite the solitary nature of the lyrics. The band, featuring Simone Fratti on bass; Paolo Maggi (and Steven Berrevoets on three tracks) on drums, Simone Prunetti, Stefano Speroni and Francesco Verrastro on guitars bring to life both the darkness and the joy Edward’s vision. And with guest appearances from Richard Hunter on harmonica, and Mike "Slo Mo" Brenner on Lap & Pedal Steel, among others, the album is a testament to the power of friendship and community – you can hear the players supporting one another throughout the album.

The acoustic strums that open “What Can I Do” only hint at what emerges in the song; the jaunty electric guitar and irresistible pedal steel rally round Ed while he tell his tale of lament for a love that’s walked out the door. “You Can Never Go Back” is almost heartbreaking in its unabashed vulnerability; Ed’s singing on the track is an exercise in penetrating into the listener and making an indelible mark. “Leaving NYC” follows in the storytelling tradition of Ed’s hero Bruce Springsteen, but when the pedal steel and violin play, the song moves past homage to something that is uniquely Lowlands. And “Lately” is a sublime example of the inventiveness of the band’s playing; the guitars not only strum, they provide dramatic atmospherics while the Paolo Maggi’s brushes on his snare provide a propulsive momentum that is reminiscent of a lost Sun Records track.

Edward’s goal is to take the album on tour until the end of 2008, and then he wants to record the next Lowlands album in a completely different fashion. But for now, The Last Call is an album of unusual bravery in its unflinching take on what it is to struggle and recover in life. “The album is about the sensations one has in those moments,” Ed concludes. “There can be rage, loneliness, incredible hope and even strange happiness. But you have to value the things that sustain you. My music and my friends have sustained me. I’m happy to have them both here on this album.”

by Ben Lazar
10th Avenue Music (NYC)

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Lost Highways

Non ho un vecchio furgone scassato, ma sulla mia Ford questo disco suona bene lo stesso. Arriva l’estate e il caldo, e mentre si ascolta l’album dei Lowlands il sole pare picchiare ancora più forte. Bizzarri, divertenti e molto “yankee”. I Lowlands sono una band italo-americana che tenta di ricreare paesaggi desertici e polverosi in quel di Pavia. Un suono leggero e spensierato apre l’album, accompagnandolo per tutte le dodici tracce, ad esclusione di qualche lenta ballata ed un pezzo tiratissimo. Si riesce a sentire l’odore pungente della plastica degli interni dell’auto, e pure quella del cuoio di una vecchia borsa appoggiata nel sedile del passeggero. Un piccolo bagaglio privato del superfluo, utile in un viaggio solitario alla ricerca di se stessi e del sogno americano; quel sogno che prevede che si possa partire con una chitarra e ritrovare l’animo in qualche città dimenticata da Dio. Un fascino che colpisce tanti, che rischia di scadere nella banalità, che forse arranca, appigliandosi all’irraggiungibile ed irripetibile estetica di un certo passato ricco di folk e rock singer americani. Ma i Lowlands non ambiscono a questo, almeno spero, perchè la loro musica è fondamentalmente leggera e spensierata. In The last call non si cerca di emulare nessun cantastorie o tanto meno nessuna grande band del passato: si propone quello che si ha dentro, con genuinità. Il classico tema della ricerca di sé appare più volte, a partire fin dalla prima traccia Ghosts in this town, e spesso la tristezza è affiancata a melodie radiose che sembrano fare buon viso al cattivo gioco di una vita senza soddisfazioni e senza amore. In Leaving NYC vengono elencate le città toccate da uno di questi viaggi che vede la partenza il 4 Luglio, quando alti i fuochi d’artificio riescono ad illuminare persino il cielo, lasciando al buio l’anima, dove alberga la tristezza e l’insoddisfazione. Il cammino è la più facile metafora della vita, indicando cambiamenti di direzione, tratti percorsi in solitudine o con altri compagni di viaggio incontrati lungo la strada. Capita anche di trovare l’amore, e notarlo come un fiore nella spazzatura: “I found you one evening, I was broken and lost / you were just lying there like a rose in the dirt / you knocked at my heart but never crossed that line / and now this loneliness is only mine” (Like a rose). Toni sconsolati vengono enfatizzati dai violini in In between e una dolce armonica arricchisce e diventa co-protagonista in 38th and Lawton. Il clima si incendia in Friday night, che spicca per la sua roboante sonorità, piena ed incalzante. Ritmi più cupi e rabbiosi, voce distorta e la presenza delle tastiere vanno a formare un muro sonoro che, giunti al terzultimo brano dell’album, non ci si aspetta assolutamente di incontrare. In the end torna a stupire per l’approccio pop-rock che, volente o nolente, riesce ad infondere il sorriso, prima che l’ultima The last call torni a riabbassare le luci sul polveroso palco.
La musica può essere veicolo di tanti messaggi: politici, artistici, proiezioni del proprio io più nascosto, diventando anche vera e propria poesia. Ma talvolta anche la musica può scegliere un’altra strada, meno profonda, ma comunque rispettabilissima. Come certi viaggi che si intraprendono solo per “cambiare aria” e svuotare la mente, la musica può servire anche semplicemente a scrollarsi di dosso le preoccupazioni, con leggerezza. Per questo: The last call - Lowlands.

by Emanuele Gessi
Lost Highways
http://www.losthighways.it/2008/06/15/the-last-call-lowlands/