According to their Wikipedia profile, the Low Anthem use no fewer than 32 instruments in creating their desolate, often beautiful folk-rock, showcased recently on their second album Oh My God, Charlie Darwin. These range from guitar, upright bass and clarinet, to Tibetan singing bowl, tongue drum and fun machine. Whatever a fun machine is, there are none on clear display at the Rhode Island trio's packed-out London show, but no one could accuse the band of skimping on the instrument budget.
A time-lapse video of the gig would show Ben Knox Miller, Jeff Prystowsky and Jocie Adams, along with newly recruited friend Matt Davidson, drifting from one side of the stage to the other like seaweed in a tide. After almost every song they swap instruments or pick up new ones. Adams is introduced as the foremost practitioner of the folk crotales – antique cymbals played with a bow to create a ringing sound – and at one point Knox Miller locates music in the static between two mobile phones and a microphone.
Dredging the darker recesses of Americana, the lyrics concoct scenes of life on the margins, where people are apt to smoke themselves to sleep or comb their hair with a frying pan. Most of the songs are slow and reflective, but occasionally things heat up and the imagery turns apocalyptic. When the sky is invoked, it's either on fire or about to fall, and people keep a stock of ammo "should society collapse".
Despite the subject matter, and the absence of fun machines, the mood is high and the band seem genuinely delighted by the audience's goodwill. Sometimes, however, you wonder if there is a justification for all those instruments. The most captivating moment comes on "Cage the Song Bird", when Knox Miller's voice, previously a Waitsian growl, rises to a falsetto and all superfluous sounds fall away.