Double-encore set gets fans of all ages moving at energetic May 8 concert

By Doug Hill

pop writer

"I've been listening to the Black Crowes since high school," Summer Kinard said. The 20-something Norman resident was among the younger faces in the Georgia band's audience at Riverwind Casino May 8.

"What I like is the Black Crowes stick with classic rock," her friend Nathan Crawford said. "There's some jam band in them and they don't care about the ratings or reviews. And the two brothers fight so much. That's what makes them rock 'n' roll. I told Summer, what kind of mood they're in will determine what kind of show we see tonight," he said. "They mix some blues with their rock and we like that too," Summer said.

The Black Crowes was founded by brothers Chris, 41, (lead vocals) and Rich, 38, (lead guitar) Robinson nearly 25 years ago. Rich was recently quoted saying if they weren't in a band together they probably wouldn't speak to each other at all. The two don't have much in common except BC, whose recent history has been turbulent. Chris is outgoing. Rich is shy. In younger days, fistfights erupted at the drop of a hat. Their manager only made the mistake once of jumping between them. Testicles are precious and he learned to stay out of their fights.

The brothers went for years without speaking to each other early this century. Both have had separate projects. Chris toured as Grateful Dead's vocalist in 2005. Recently BC came back together recording BC's first album in seven years. Response has been strong as moonshine.

No sibling drama was evident when the pair, along with two female back-up singers plus four guys on drums, keys, bass and guitar took the stage. If body language means anything, the brothers were way more than arm's length apart. With a fistful of incense sticks burning next to a monitor, BC began their two hour, 3 minute show.

Judging by the musicians' hair and attire, it was like time travel back to 1972. Reedy and slit-eyed, Chris was all happy, bouncing hippie. Stocky and sullen, Rich could have been the guy back in the day selling bags of oregano for $15 on the corner. They played "Jealous Again," a Rolling Stones tribute. BC's fans love is strong and they sang along on every number. Most tunes concluded with long, high volume all band crescendos that begged for hearing protection. "A nod to the waiter/ always her flirty behavior/ you know she always gets one on the house," Chris sang during power ballad "Girl From the Pawnshop." Rich sang back-up vocals.

Most tunes were heavy, murky rock with indecipherable lyrics. Strobe lights added to the psychedelic aura. Next up was a funky ghetto burner they spun a l? Blue Cheer. The Robinsons love the acid rock era and have since crawdad-catching days. Chris hefted his mic stand overhead and did the skinny white boy dance. Next row up, David Stanley's TV ad guy high-fived buddies then us after a long jam. The band turned their backs to the audience in reverence to the drummer's solo. This drew a raucous crowd response. Chris followed with a cold-blooded blues harp riff. Another ballad, this one about dreams. Chris got his inner soul groove on.

The full band stomped back in for Muscle Shoals bedlam. The female back-up singers' vocals were largely obliterated. They weren't there for eye candy either, the attractive pair were deep stage left in a waist-high booth. By "Wiser Times" it was party time. Even pregnant women were knocking back cold ones. People hollered through another spotlight solo as Rich burned into the night. Consistently, Riverwind's crack video crew sent real time moving image to the JumboTron screens on either side of the stage. Girls were dancing on chairs. Security held.

BC finished the set, coming back for an encore. They played greasy bedroom slider, "Goodbye Daughters of the Revolution." Next and last was best. BC's unexpected cover of Neil Young's "Ohio" blazed with startling intensity. The 38-year old protest song about our National Guard shooting students at Kent State University sounded every note distraught and outraged as the original.