The Black Crowes Come Blazing Back on Happiness Bastards

There are plenty of reasons to be skeptical when a once-prominent band reassembles decades after its cultural peak. Do they need the money? Are they addicted to the attention? That goes double for bands comprising brothers who are known for their fraught familial relationships, from the Everlys right on through to the Gallaghers (not that Oasis will be re-forming anytime soon) and Chris and Rich Robinson, the siblings and driving force behind the Black Crowes. Yet here come the Black Crowes with Happiness Bastards, their first album of new material in 15 years, and it is very much to the Robinsons’ credit that it feels neither like a nostalgia trip nor a grab for cash.

On the contrary, it’s a respectable collection of bluesy rockers that showcase the brothers’ strengths: Rich Robinson has always had a distinctive sound on guitar, while Chris Robinson’s charisma as a frontman remains undiminished. Chris has said that the only time the brothers aren’t at each other’s throats is when they’re writing songs together, and that shared creative spark is still evident nearly three and a half decades after the Black Crowes exploded onto the charts with Shake Your Money Maker, their 1990 debut.

The band’s sound has evolved over the years from the loose-limbed southern soul vibe of their earlier work, and Happiness Bastards is generally a hard-driving album. The tempos are swift, the guitars are bright and loud, and everything feels a little frenzied, as if the Robinsons were keen to go as fast as possible while they were getting along. Generally, the bombastic pace works. Rich slings a crackling riff on “Rats and Clowns” while Chris rattles off staccato lyrics, bolstered on the chorus by pillowy layers of harmony vocals, before Rich blasts through a revved-up solo—all in about 3 1/2 minutes. Later, “Bleed It Dry” is a big, bluesy shuffle powered by thick, overdriven slide guitar and honky-tonk piano, and Chris adds blowsy harmonica between verses.