MINNESOTA band Low may be playing a special Christmas gig in Brighton but singer Alan Sparhawk isn’t feeling a whole lot of festive cheer right now. Signs of his deep despair at the current political climate in his home country are evident from the early stages of our interview – even when he is ostensibly discussing non-related matters concerning Low’s music.

“We’re trying to get a foothold of what’s going on in the world,” he sighs at one point when talking about the new material Low are working on. “I don’t know man; I’m always feeling like something is wrong.”

Sparhawk’s devastation over Donald Trump’s victory in the American Presidential election is, obviously, shared by many across the world. In the course of a 15-minute diatribe that encompasses various areas of modern society, though, the frontman’s simmering rage is striking.

In an interview last year, Sparhawk said: “The older I get the more concerned and irrationally frustrated I get with things in the world.” In our conversation, he adds: “I’ve been feeling this s*** coming for a long time. I feel like I’ve been trying to say this stuff forever. Now I’m wondering what to do.”

It would be somewhat inaccurate to say Low’s music is characterised by the kind of foreboding atmosphere Sparhawk talks of. As much as the trio’s debut album I Could Live In Hope (1994) introduced their dark lyrical themes and often ominous emotional tone to the world, the melodies shared between Sparhawk and his wife Mimi Parker were – and are – frequently uplifting. Witness Sunflower, for instance, the beautiful opening track on the band’s popular album Things We Lost In the Fire, or last year’s shimmering single What Part Of Me.

Both songs display the intuitive connection shared between husband and wife. Low may have been categorised as minimalist “slowcore” merchants in their early days, but 22 years since forming the band boast an expansive back catalogue. Low’s 1999 Christmas album, from which they will draw at St George’s Church, is another varied collection.

“At times it is hard and frustrating, but the saving grace is communication,” says Sparhawk of being in a band with his wife. “We’ve known each other since we were nine. The frontman says he never thinks ‘”I’m really upset, I’m going to write about it”, but also that in hindsight he realises that all of his work is to some extent a reflection of what was going on in the world at the time. Speaking of which, it becomes apparent that I should just ask Sparhawk outright about his views on the election given his earlier hints.

“Absolutely ridiculous. Mimi and I are very shocked, but also not shocked. You guys probably experienced it earlier this year. You think everybody is reasonable and that the adults are going to make sure everything is alright, but it ain’t. I think people, me included, thought that most people were nice apart from a few jerks.

“I’ve been telling friends, ‘start learning how to live in a fascist regime’. It’s built on nationalism and racism and uses fear to keep the masses in line. Now people think that the biggest jerk is going to win. That’s what this election has shown us. Are these people really that uncomfortable at having a black president? They don’t understand that they’re a bunch of racists. When people see a moral leader, they think: ‘well, maybe I better shut my mouth and keep my racism to myself ’. But now it’s OK.”

It would be far too much of a stretch to say that Sparhawk sees any redeeming factors in last week’s events, but he does state that he will be “way more determined” with his music now (although the trio have hardly been slacking up to this point). “It sounds cheesy but everything means more now.”

Sparhawk’s renewed resolve will manifest itself in a new album, which should be out at some point next year. His love for music is evidently a driving force in troubled times – along with the enduring bond he shares with Parker.

“In some ways it could be dangerous to bring creative and personal ideas to somebody you’re in a relationship with, but it is also deeply satisfying,” he says. “When you share a song with someone you’re so close to, it becomes magnified through love and trust.”

Low, St George’s Church, Brighton, Saturday, December 3, 7pm, £24.75, call 01273 279448