The Low Anthem - Oh My God, Charlie Darwin

There seems to be a gentle breeze blowing throughout The Low Anthem’s new record, ‘Oh My God, Charlie Darwin’, as if the band is playing this on a front porch somewhere in their hometown of Providence, Rhode Island with listeners sprawled out on the lawn. The album is drenched in Americana, both in influence and subject matter, and while their musical similarities are easy to spot, there is enough originality and quality found throughout the record to leave a lasting impression on anyone.

Starting off with the soft, wistful ache of ‘Charlie Darwin’, sets a plaintive tone straight away, and creates a sense of intimacy and warmth that is continued for the duration of the record. That delicate sensibility continues on ‘To Ohio’, which is haunting and mournful without being overly sentimental. The light finger picking of the guitar gently guides the sparse song forward, with a bevy of other instruments chiming in to add to the doleful nature of the song without ever overwhelming the fragile heart of the track. Things get rowdy on the Tom Waits-ish ‘The Horizon Is A Beltway’, which ends up being quite jarring when placed after the two muted openers. But it’s a welcome change, as the three piece band is allowed to expand their sound a bit and experiment with different instruments that all seem to be clanging at once in this boisterous number. The foot stomping continues with their feisty cover of ‘Home I’ll Never Be’ (Jack Kerouac lyrics set to music by Tom Waits) which is bawdy and rollicking in ways you’d never expect based on the way the album started.

But another page is turned with the melancholy poignancy of ‘Ticket Taker’, that alludes to the difficult responsibility of guiding someone through the storms of our lives. It’s a beautiful song, so simple but so affecting, like most of the songs on ‘Oh My God, Charlie Darwin’. The album features a wide variety of eclectic sounds (saxophone, piano, cello, tabla drum, pump organ, and other traditional (and assuredly non-traditional) folk instruments), but it never sounds cluttered or strident, which is a testament to the talent and refinement of the band, and also to Jesse Lauter, who co-produced the record with the group in the heart of a desolate Block Island winter. That sense of isolation is palpable throughout the more delicate tracks, while the more spirited numbers serve as a loud exclamation to see if the world is still out there amidst the darkness that was surrounding them.

Despite the drastic shifts in tone and tempo, the album remains cohesive due to the band’s natural sound and the honest reflection threaded throughout the lyrics and vocals of Ben Miller. Songs as delicate as ‘To The Ghosts Who Write History Books’ and ‘(Don’t) Tremble’ would sound a bit precious under lesser hands, but here they are grand and moving. The band lets loose again on the lively ‘Champion Angel’, which is the longest track on the record as well as the loudest, with the electric guitars ringing out right along with the pounding drums during the riotous chorus. The lyrics show that the band has made it this far without our help, and can continue on that way if need be: ‘Don’t be my personal savior, I would not be saved. I chose to walk alone.’ The album closes with a couple more tranquil numbers, the solemn ‘Cage The Songbird’, and the countrified title track, here playfully abbreviated ‘OMGCD’, before revisiting and reworking the gorgeous ‘To Ohio (Reprise)’ to officially end the record on an elegiac high.

The Low Anthem have delivered a record full of emotion and care, crafting a sound that is at once immediate, personal and familiar. The effects of the album linger long after their music fades away, leaving a feeling of having traveled some distance without ever taking a step. ‘Oh My God, Charlie Darwin’ represents a journey of discovery, both physical and personal, and the genuine, plaintive sound of The Low Anthem will serve as a guide as you find your way home.