Caught Live: The Low Anthem

The Low Anthem are one of those types of bands that seem to just float around for a while, managing bit by bit to earn themselves a nice little following. They last played Dublin in September ’09 when they supported Ray Lamontagne at the Gaiety before heading down to Stradbally for a, by all accounts, storming Electric Picnic set. The fact that their first hearline show here has been moved from Whelans to Vicar Street just goes to show how devout their fans really are. Considering they get virtually no radio play on our airwaves, despite rave reviews from critics and contemporaries far and wide, admirers of their music are clearly shouting about that devotion from rooftops around the city. 

Anyone who has listened to the band’s breakthrough 2009 album Oh My God, Charlie Darwin will be aware of the duality of songs on the record: fragility and intricacy exist in perfect symmetry with blues and brawn. Letting something like 'Ohio' or the title track, 'Oh My God, Charlie Darwin' lull you into a cosset of soothing melodies before blindsiding you with the resounding, blusey rhythm of 'The Horizon is a Beltway' is what the Low Anthem do best. It keeps you focused and interested and it’s a tactic they employ well on tour too, it seems. 

Shuffling almost awkwardly on stage, The Low Anthem look like an old-fashioned travelling medicine show with their bizarre collection of instruments, world-weary garb and varying styles of facial hair (lone lady-member and ex-NASA technician Jocie is excluded from this last one, of course). Opening songs including 'To The Ghosts Who Write History Books' and 'Oh My God, Charlie Darwin' did their best to ease the tension of the first day of the week but after a couple more pitch-perfect renditions of the band’s more tranquil numbers, those of us without seats began to fade fast. Thankfully, Jeff Prystowsky’s hypnotic, beefy double-bass provided the perfect antidote in the form of the rousing opening bars of 'Don’t Let Nobody Turn You ‘Round'. Continuing straight on into Jack Kerouac’s 'Home I’ll Never Be' (which the band have well and truly made their own), Monday briefly had the potential to become a whiskey-swilling rollover from the nights before until the band put a quietus on proceedings once again; Ben Knox-Miller’s raspy drawl reinventing itself as a hushed lullaby. 

The Low Anthem certainly made an impact on their Dublin crowd on a cold February night, with many impressed by the sheer craftsmanship and gumption of the young quartet. As members flitted around the stage swapping instruments after each song and taking turns to exercise their vocal chords, it was striking just how much passion each one of them had for their music. Not content with just playing one instrument – whether it be guitar, drums or Tibetan singing bowl – there was a sense that each member wanted to be fully immersed in each song. Jocie Adam’s singing voice is by no means big but her ability to push those notes out from the recesses of her gut is slightly eerie and wholly admirable. And if there’s one thing that The Low Anthem take from this gig it must surely be admiration: rarely do such a group of effortlessly talented and utterly invested musicians share a stage.