Back in the 1990s, the Black Crowes blew up out of Atlanta, playing soulful, swaggering classic rock in an era of alt-rock irony and grunge bellyaching. Even more impressively, the two guys at the heart of the band — singer Chris Robinson and his guitar-playing brother Rich — managed to pull off their multi-platinum run while absolutely hating each other, like an American version of Oasis. But eventually the tension between Chris and Rich forced the Crowes to close up shop.
The band released their last studio album in 2009, and the Robinson brothers needed a decade to cool off before they reformed in 2019. In 2022, they released 1972, an EP with covers of David Bowie, the Rolling Stones, the Temptations, T. Rex, Little Feat, and Rod Stewart, forcefully arguing that Rock Eden could be specifically located in one year of the Nixon administration. But what's surprising about Happiness Bastards, their first studio album together since reuniting, is how fun, energetic and, unmistakably not-crusty it sounds, even as the references they lean into are all roughly a half-century old.
With its slide guitar, boogie piano, and stomping beat, album opener "Bedside Manners" sounds like the Faces on a bender in Memphis. Songs like "Rats and Clowns" and "Wanting and Waiting" are glam-rock with gritty downhome spirit. "Dirty Cold Sun" is a funky guitar brawl with Chris summoning the saucy contempt of "Live With Me"-era Mick Jagger. "Bleed It Dry" is Dylan-evoking country-blues rendered with a snarl. "Flesh Wound" sounds like mid-Seventies Rod Stewart if he'd made a secret record backed by Cheap Trick. Breakout country star Lainey Wilson sings backup on "Wilted Rose," a gospel-tinged acoustic ballad that ascends into Led Zeppelin grandeur.
The last Black Crowes album, 2009's Before the Frost…Until the Freeze, was recorded at Levon Helm's barn in Woodstock, New York, and had a distinctly rustic period sound. This time out, they're working with producer Jay Joyce (Cage the Elephant, Eric Church), who has a knack for giving classic-minded music a digital-era immediacy. "Cross Your Fingers," a song that otherwise mashes up the Allman Brothers and Zeppelin, even has a brief breakdown with a mildly processed beat and a rap-like vocal cadence. But whether Happiness Bastards works because the Robinsons are reanimating the past, or merely reenacting it, what matters is they're rocking now.
