Events

[PSYCHEDELIC] Chris Robinson may be a bit scattered, but he’s far from incoherent. In fact, the 49-year-old former Black Crowes frontman makes an awful lot of sense when you listen closely. This is a man that knows what he wants and understands where he’s going.

“I’m not interested in the fake pandering that goes on with so many show-biz bands,” he said over the phone from California. “For me, there needs to be a more tangible connection with the audience. I refuse to say the same things night after night, and I’m happy not having to ask people if they’re having a good time or forcing them to clap. I’ve never been that type of performer…it just feels silly to me. We have a lot of people in this industry trying to get over, but really, that’s something pop stars have been doing since the 1950s.”

Robinson returns to Buffalo as the Chris Robinson Brotherhood (CRB) on Friday, September 19 at the Town Ballroom, kicking off a trek that takes the quirky five-piece into December. Though still touring behind last year’s Phosphorescent Harvest (Sliver Arrow Records)—a meandering collection of mostly love songs that defies genre classification—2015 marks a new chapter in Robinson’s story given that the Black Crowes announced their breakup back in January. Albeit their third parting-of-ways, Robinson insists the break is final this time.

“I hate to say it, but after the last few years, it’s never been clearer to me that I have no relationship with anyone in that organization,” he said. “And yes, it’s sad, especially with family involved. But since we were little kids my brother and I have been such different people: if I saw a purple bicycle, he saw a green kangaroo. The Crowes have always been a cantankerous bunch, but I’m in a different place than I’ve ever been in before—I don’t need for money and I don’t need for hassles. I’m surrounded by friends and family that understand me and what I want to accomplish.”

CRB may sound a little like the Crowes because of Robinson’s gritty howl, but there are important musical and philosophical distinctions. Although both born of the blues, the Crowes evolved into a loud rock band, while Robinson sees CRB as folk-steeped roots music with jazzy overtones. He’s delighted to turn down the hard-rocking swagger in favor of something more nuanced. Additionally, he credits the unstoppable musical personality (and sense of humor) of keyboardist Adam MacDougall as a key ingredient in the “baroque charm” that sets CRB apart. And of course, former Ryan Adams collaborator Neal Casal’s guitar work and songwriting skills are what we might call CRB’s secret weapon.

“For me, the differences start right with the vocals,” he said. “I’ve been known as a singer my whole career, and I do really love to sing—purely resonant, harmonic pleasure. And screaming, which I often did in the Crowes, may be more therapeutic. But when I started this band I wanted to focus on melody, harmony, and the imagery in the lyrics. It’s a completely different vibe to me, and I’ve been very careful never to put the Crowes name on anything to do with CRB because it’d be downright dishonest. Am I going to lie to you to get your $20 just this one time? No. This band is on a soulful, dynamic quest.”

As if to drive home his point, Robinson likes to refer to CRB as a, “farm-to-table, psychedelic band,” and describes the entire operation much like a small cottage industry that’s being built with a communal, grass-roots feel. The music gets released independently, while merchandising and management get handled in-house. And they’ve let Grateful Dead producer Betty Cantor-Jackson curate what’s becoming a series of live releases, much in the same tradition as the Dead’s Dick’s Picks stash.

Robinson insists that by handling CRB affairs this way, the band has achieved greater creative freedom. Without any lingering commitment to the Black Crowes, he’s now able to focus more energy into nurturing CRB’s musical community, and their shows stretch generously beyond the three hour mark. If it sounds a bit like a jam band, that’s because it is.

“That’s definitely the concert culture that’s most interested in our little get-togethers,” he said. “And I love that intense musical connection they thrive on. I’ve learned a few things over the years, and I can say for certain that fame and money were the least interesting parts of being in a successful rock band.”