Black Crowes/ Beacon Theatre/ February 25, 1999

Rarely have I seen so many rabid, diehard fans so consumed with a band like I did this snowy eve at the Beacon Theatre. But for those about to rock, the Black Crowes certainly salute you. And after seeing them live, I’m convinced they’re undoubtedly one of life’s great bohemian experiences.

Like a reborn Lynyrd Skynyrd sans the Confederate schtick, the Crowes came out offering their pot-toking thirtysomething fans a soulful, voodoo-like “Remedy” underneath the veneer of a silky silver backdrop and perfectly timed lighting. Most folks would agree the Rolling Stones severely influenced these honky tonkin’ roots-rockers. Just one look at guitarist Rich Robinson’s unkempt, free flowing locks, wiry frame, and dapper strut will convince you he’s doing a first class Keith Richards impersonation while his brother, flamboyant singer/ harpist Chris Robinson (decked out in a glittery magenta women’s jump suit), swaggers about and prances to and fro like fellow Glimmer Twin Mick Jagger.

But more often, the Crowes boozy roadhouse ramblers, rumbling boogie stompers (one track from the recent By Your Side skillfully recalled “Call Me The Breeze”), and two soulful backup female singers with maracas, brought back startling images of Skynyrd in their prime. And when the current stress track, the slide-glazed “Kicking My Heart Around,” began to roar from the speakers midset, several uninhibited chicks began dancing wildly in the aisles.

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