I came late to the party with Low; I missed their whispery slowcore beginnings and my engagement was limited largely to their magnificent Christmas album, which should be a staple of every home in December. It certainly is in mine.

But I only really came on board in recent years when they began to blend their beautiful harmonies with glitchy dissonance.

This is the song that first found its way into my heart.

It comes from their last album, Hey You – the 13th in a career that began in 1993 – and I was captivated by the way it starts out like a campfire singalong (see the video below) before those ethereal vocals are overwhelmed by an electronic blizzard of noise.

Its beauty is undiminished – arguably enhanced – in the stripped-back acoustic version they performed for Stereogum with nothing but a single acoustic guitar.

I finally got to see Low after several attempts this summer, performing in St John’s Church in Hackney, and it was just as powerfully emotional as I had hoped.

There’s something uniquely wonderful about how their clean, organic vocal harmonies contrast with the machine-made maelstrom of sound that surrounds it.

It’s always sad when a band member dies but all the more so with Low because they were a husband-and-wife duo who met at school in a smalltown in Minnesota and had been making music together for 30 years.

I’m sure every fan’s heart goes out today to Mimi’s musical and life partner, the permanently dungaree-clad Alan Sparhawk, and their children Hollis and Cyrus.

RIP Mimi Parker (1967-2022)