ow Skies will break your heart. The Chicago-based quintet’s debut album, The Bed, is a vagabond’s companion—a soundtrack for missing out and moving on. However, lead vocalist Chris Salveter is not as lonely or depressed as his lyrics might attest. In fact, ever since the former visual art student opted for a career in music, the road to burgeoning success has been paved with relatively good fortune. Though he has bounced back and forth between states and vocations, Salveter has never had much trouble finding inspiration—or collaborators. His search for the ever-elusive drummer ended after a brief flier-posting spree resulted in a lone respondent.

“Only one person answered the ad,” Salveter says. “And that was the person perfect to be a drummer for Low Skies. It was such a crapshoot.”

The band had a similar chance meeting with its current label, Flameshovel Records. Salveter was working at Chicago’s Empty Bottle, slinging drinks with another future labelmate when a tipsy Flameshovel executive walked in. The two men struck up a conversation and a few hours (and many beers) later, Low Skies was en route to becoming legit. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or simply Salveter’s approachable demeanor, that lead to a professional union. Regardless, first impressions were only a gateway to success. Proof of Low Skies’ potential to succeed was in the music itself. “They were on the on-search for a few new bands,” says Salveter. “I sparked his interest, passed the CD along and sort of took it from there.”

Though there remain only a few copies of the group’s first EP, it’s safe to assume that the songs emanated a vibe similar to those on The Bed. Each track is layered with dense atmospheric tension, brooding chords and droning, yet powerful vocals. Salveter’s voice is both intimidating and compelling. It is the sound of an edgy artist—or someone who watches too much David Lynch.

“I’ve been influenced a lot more by films and books than I have by any music,” he says, citing Lynch as a main source of creative insight. Salveter also draws inspiration from visits to Texas. The East Coast-bred musician finds comfort in its expansive landscape.

“I don’t really walk around the streets of Chicago and feel inspired to write songs,” says Salveter. “I don’t think that land is very influential on me. I don’t find it to be as inspiring as the Southwest is to me.” That’s not to say that the Windy City is completely unappealing. As a resident, he recognizes the locale’s positive aspects, mainly the people inhabiting its condensed streets. Though Salveter may live in Chicago, his home seems to exist elsewhere.

Texas, and imagery associated with the state, appear throughout The Bed. “I ain’t been through Austin or Dallas/but I done spent/ too much time in Texas,” Salveter claims ironically on “Palmyra.” Yet clearly he has not been there long enough. He begs a lover to come home—a location that may not be found on any map, but one that most certainly recalls a place similar in spirit to Texas—a place where his soul becomes whole.

“There’s a certain richness in that state that has spawned a lot of bands, a lot of stories,“ Salveter says. Fellow band members Brandon and Jacob Ross were physical gems among the spiritual substance extracted from longhorn country. The two brothers “were very inspiring...very different people.” The Rosses, along with Luther Rochester and “lone respondent” drummer Jason Creps help translate Salveter’s varied influences into a coherent form. Now spiritual branches can meld with sonic roots, specifically the musical legends that shaped Salveter’s vocal stylings.

“I’ve always been a fan of soul music. I grew up on Otis Redding, Sam Cooke...” he says. “(When I first started developing my voice) I was listening to a lot of Tom Waits, and...was also really influenced by Nina Simone’s singing.”

Salveter has a lot to draw upon, however, his voice is very much his own. It is one sure to reverberate across both dense cities and open plains—wherever there’s room for Low Skies.

Discover the band when it plays Sept. 9 at Kilby Court, 741 S 300 West.
jamie@red-mag.com