The Black Crowes

Say Goodnight to the Bad Guys

The unequivocal shoo-in for this year’s “Ironman” award, The Black Crowes held court Tuesday night at the Arlington, delivering a soul-searing 21 song, three-hour master class in Croweology, transforming the venue into an ersatz funky, folksy, blues and gospel-tinged, psychedelic rock ‘n’ roll revival tent.

Class began promptly at eight, as a fog of incense (and other “exotic” aromas) filled the air and the band took the stage for the first of two 90-minute sets – one (semi) acoustic and one electric - mirroring the structure of their latest release, Croweology – a double album opus of band and critical favorites, revisited and stripped down to base elements with extended instrumental turns and live, in-studio jams.

Launching head–first into a rousing Jealous Again, the Crowes brought the crowd to its feet, where they would remain for the duration of the show. Frontman Chris Robinson kept his comments brief, alluding to some Donner Party-like circumstances that delayed the band’s arrival, before breaking into a harmonica-laden Hotel Illness, prominently featuring Steve Gorman on a large bass drum center stage.

At times, Robinson’s vocal intensity rendered the mix on the shrill side, while the guitar work of brother Rich (alternating between slide, acoustic and red Gibson ES 335) and Luther Dickinson, registered pristine.  Fortunately, balance was attained four songs in, just in time to capture some of the band’s finer work of the evening. An extended Ballad in Urgency began with Robinson at his wailing, soulful best, subtly giving way (literally fading into the stage darkness) to Luther and Rich, who traded meandering, lilting riffs reminiscent of the Dead, leading into the classic Wiser Time. Again, Robinson stepped back to allow keyboardist Adam MacDougall to shine while the guitarists took an Allman-esque route. MacDougall also added some extra funky piano-bar flair to the southern-flavored Lizzie Mae.

Another set highlight included a sweet and somber rendering of She Talks to Angels, after which Robinson chose for only the second time in the evening, to address the audience. Noticing a preponderance of hand-held electronic devices amongst the crowd (despite a pre-show announcement discouraging the use of cameras and phones) he admonished, “Look, I’ll make you a deal… we’ll continue to play songs like the last one, if you agree to put away your f@#%$&g cell phones. Save the cameras for taking pictures of your kids eating carrots and just enjoy the show!” (Amen) From that point on, it was refreshing to actually experience a live performance sans outstretched arms and LED screens. The band then tore into the frenzied gospel of My Morning Song to close out the first set.

After a brief intermission, the band plugged in and turned on, with the extra juice taking numbers like Good Morning Captain, High Head Blues, How Much for Your Wings and Bring On Bring On into expansive realms of acid infused blues and psychedelia as the guitarists again channeled the brothers Allman and Garcia/Weir with some Page and Santana stylings thrown into the mix. A rambling Thorn in My Pride had the band exit the stage, leaving only the percussive team of Gorman and Joe Magistro to duke it out in an extended tribal rhythm jam. After a jubilant Soul Singing, the show came to a sonic crescendo with all cylinders firing for a roof-raising version of Remedy, complete with power chords, Booker T - smooth keyboards and sultry backing vocals, ending the night’s sermon with authority.

If indeed, the Crowes ride off into the sunset on “indefinite hiatus” at the conclusion of this Say Goodnight to the Bad Guys tour (wrapping up with a multi-night stand at San Francisco’s Fillmore later this month) these boys have definitely earned it.