Events

[FOLK] As an offshoot of Medeski, Martin, and Wood, one would expect the Wood Brothers to let loose a bit from their contained rootsy folk, and with last year’s Paradise, which brings the lauded group to Town Ballroom on Friday, November 11 they’ve done it. At least a little. It’s no coincidence that the fifth Wood Brothers release has a raw, bluesy element that scratches the surface of early efforts from the Black Keys since it was recorded at Dan Auerbach’s Easy Eye Sound studio in Nashville. It’s their first project with Thirty Tigers after a long stint with Zac Brown’s Southern Ground label, and it also marks the first time the that brothers Chris and Oliver Wood—now with percussionist/multi-instrumentalist Jano Rix along for the ride—composed material as a working unit, all in the same place at the same time. Occasional horns augment the tone, adding a Nawlin’s feel to several tracks, including the stunner “Two Places,” which seems to repeatedly fall apart and miraculously come back together in under four-and-a-half minutes. The grit and filthy grooves driving “Snake Eyes” and Raindrop” are evidence of Auerbach’s influence, and both cuts sound as if they could expand into lengthier jams in a live setting. Opener Dylan LeBlanc’s third release, Cautionary Tale, comes on the heels of some hard living and difficult realizations. The 26-year-old troubadour is too young to claim “hell-and-back” survivor cliches, which is all well and good since we’ve already got plenty of that to sift through. Instead, we get songs about outsiders that refuse to acquiesce, opting to push against mainstream ideals in their own backwards ways. One gets the distinct impression that LeBlanc’s characters are composite sketches that include some element of himself at the root —a clever tool that hints at even greater capabilities. Sonically, Tales is an Americana hybrid. Pairing up with Alabama-based Single Lock Records this time (after stirring up a buzz with Rough Trade) has left him in the capable hands of label heads Ben Tanner (Alabama Shakes) and John Paul White (The Civil Wars), both of whom are good at deviating from stiff templates. String arrangements recall elements of 1970’s pop production, and while LeBlanc’s crooning still feels delicate and understated, he owns this material in a way that his Rough Trade releases can’t touch. Cautionary Tale may contain stories about struggling with life’s curve balls, but LeBlanc leaves the distinct impression he knows exactly what he’s doing.