Chris Robinson Brotherhood
Anyway You Love, We Know How You Feel

I have not yet listened to the recent album by the reformed Black Crowes, so I don't know who prevailed between the two Robinson brothers, whether it was the Rolling Stone-like guitarist Rick or the Grateful Dead-ish singer Chris. For years, they have been at odds, trying to steer the Black Crows into rock territories (the guitarist) or... smoked ones (the frontman), finding peace only once separated and leading their respective bands. Then, in 2019, Chris and his Brotherhood unfortunately lost an essential figure, namely the guitarist, composer, backing vocalist, and photographer Neal Casal, and at least this sad event served to reconcile and bring the brothers closer together.

But for now, let's spend a few words on this work by the Brotherhood, with the boss, therefore, still joined by Casal along with two other bearded fellows, engaged with their old-time, relaxed, and... spliffy music—a certain way of rolling out airy and "expanded" rock that the Californian masters of the Grateful Dead have taught for a lifetime. A genre so "rural" and yankee that it has always had some difficulty asserting itself strongly in our parts, being more attracted to things like metropolitan malaise, far removed from the fifteen-minute-long lysergic jams. It was like that in the seventies, let alone now.

Having mentioned the Grateful Dead as clear inspirations, everything has been said: a swaying and moderately psychedelic rock by the brotherhood of Rick Robinson, with not the slightest fear of lingering in long preludes, instrumental interludes, or rhythm suspensions, albeit never hurried. In this work, the tracks, upon closer inspection, are not particularly expanded... the longest doesn't reach eight minutes, but the album is not among their best, there's no comparison with the debut "Big Moon Ritual" of 2012, which was a half-masterpiece, an epiphany.

I love the voice of this singer viscerally, good Chris from Atlanta, Georgia. In the nineties' Crowes, he screamed much more, to overpower the chaos created by his brother and the other three. Here he doesn't need to, and his sonorous southern timbre, so distinctive and intense, with a unique, recognizable, and invigorating texture, comes out even better and suffices as a guarantee for me. Then there's also the late Casal and the keyboardist doing things properly, with taste, measure, and cleanliness, so four stars.