Between the Notes: The Black Crowes have heart, soul and 'blood harmony'

That thought came to me fairly early in their Hollywood Bowl set earlier this summer and, by the end of that night, I was convinced of it. The records give you the songs. Live, you get the swagger, the looseness and, most importantly, the Robinson brothers.

Chris Robinson remains a commanding frontman, singing with plenty of strength and still carrying the attitude that has always been part of the Crowes' appeal. But the ingredient that separates this band from a lot of other rock groups is standing a few feet away from him. Rich Robinson.

When the brothers sing together, you hear blood harmony, that particular blend that happens when voices come from the same family. You can imitate it, but you can't manufacture it, and when the boys leaned into those harmonies, they rocked the house.

The current touring band surrounds them with excellent players: Nico Bereciartua on guitar, Erik Deutsch on keyboards, Mark "Muddy" Dutton on bass and backing vocals, and Cully Symington on drums, along with Chris Robinson on vocals, harmonica and guitar and Rich Robinson on guitar and vocals.

They don't all play the same kind of rock all night, either. One of the things that impressed me most was how much the sound could change from song to song. There were moments when the guitars began to feel a little repetitive, one of the few criticisms I had of the performance, and then suddenly they'd come back sounding completely different, which saved the evening from becoming a long guitar workout.

The keyboards helped enormously. Deutsch's organ work filled the spaces behind the guitars without fighting them, and later in the evening some excellent piano playing added another dimension. Then, Chris Robinson pulled out the harmonica, and somehow that fit too. I guess these guys rehearse.

"Hard to Handle," the Otis Redding song the Crowes made their own decades ago, showed how completely they can inhabit material that didn't begin with them; the Bowl audience knew every word. "Remedy" did what "Remedy" is supposed to do. It rocked.

But some of the more interesting moments came when the band backed away from sheer force. "Soul Singing" gave Robinson room to show how strong his voice still is. "She Talks to Angels" began acoustically and reminded me how much more depth a familiar song can acquire onstage — the original recording is acoustic-centered, but building the full band around it gave the song more weight without destroying what makes it intimate. That's not always easy to do.

There were also passages where the Crowes let a song stretch and grow rather than simply playing it and moving on, one number starting relatively mellow and building into something much more powerful while the audience listened intently to the guitar work. That's where the Black Crowes are at their best. They're a rock band, certainly, but a band that understands dynamics, moving through Southern rock, blues, soul and a little Stones swagger without making any of it feel like an exercise in genre.

Then came the finale, when the Tedeschi Trucks Band returned to the stage and suddenly there were enough musicians up there to create absolute chaos. Instead, they became one band. There was harmony everywhere, musicians trading short solos, nobody appearing interested in proving who was the star. Susan Tedeschi and Rich Robinson sang together, and "Learning to Live Together" felt less like a performance by two separate groups than a genuine collaboration, with terrific piano running underneath it. Then Derek Trucks took his lead, and he didn't just add another guitar solo — he lifted the song into the stratosphere.

After a night that offered three very different approaches to American rock music, this was the right way to close it: not one band trying to top another, but musicians listening to each other. It summed up what I liked about the Black Crowes themselves. They're not polished into sterility. There are rough edges — occasionally the guitars wander a little too long, not every passage needs another lick — but rock and roll shouldn't be perfect. It should feel alive.

Chris and Rich Robinson still have that connection, the band around them knows how to follow it, and when those voices lock together, decades disappear. That's blood harmony. You either have it or you don't, and the Black Crowes have it.