The Black Crowes - LC, 8/8

Nothing could save the Black Crowes on Friday night, not even the amazing weather. And it was amazing, the sun making the LC’s sheet-metal façade look downright warm and the night air becoming nice and chilled once the glowing orb finally descended.

I thought maybe, just maybe, a night like that would give me an extra portion of patience to enjoy a band that likes to showcase its musicianship on long, extended jams. I even tried to dispel any preconceptions when I noticed a.) an exceedingly high number of male ponytails, and b.) the sound guys carefully putting incense and patchouli around the stage before the band came on.

But this snoozer of a show never lived up to the potential created by such a pleasant night, making the outdoor experience even more disappointing.

The interminable jamming on almost every song, which I honestly can’t imagine enjoying unless you’re ridiculously high (and many folks were), led to copious amounts of awkward hippie dancing by singer Chris Robinson. He had just a few moves, like whipping his long hair from side to side, but his favorite was the ‘ole running-in-place motion, which looked more like a bad game of charades than a dance.

I guess you can’t completely blame Robinson, though. The dude rarely plays an instrument, so what else is he supposed to do while the other guys endlessly noodle? Plus, his singing was usually right on the mark, a bluesy howl that was equal parts 80-year-old gospel singer and Robert Plant.

And at least he was visibly into the music. His compatriots, on the other hand, played their parts--improvised and otherwise--with the emotion of an embalmed politician.

The band apparently is quite excited to have North Mississippi Allstars guitarist Luther Dickinson on board, since he got his own emotionless guitar solo just about every time Chris’s brother Rich got one. Neither lead player showed much variation beyond familiar, stereotypical classic/southern rock leads. (The sound mix was pretty muddy all night, too.)

The set was short on hits, with the band forgoing old radio favorites like “She Talks to Angels” and “Jealous Again” for stuff off the band’s newest album, Warpaint. The Bee Gees cover “To Love Somebody” was just as boring as the rest, but the Black Crowes’ version of “Senor (Tales of Yankee Power)” was surprisingly good--maybe because Chris Robinson picked up an acoustic for the tune, but more likely because it’s a Bob Dylan song.

Yes, these guys can play their instruments, but by refusing to edit themselves and make the music more than a side note to the communal concert experience, the tiresome show was too hard to handle.

Like the Black Crowes, openers Grace Potter & the Nocturnals’ best tune was a cover--the Rolling Stones’ “Paint it, Black.” Other than that, the songs were pretty blah.

Potter came out strapped with a Flying V for an opening number that significantly upped the rock factor compared with the band’s 2007 Hollywood debut, This is Somewhere. But she soon abandoned the guitar, retreating to the keyboard for some mellower tunes. Even the more upbeat ones only rocked out in the way that predictable Melissa Etheridge songs rock out. And the all-band drum solo came off as gimmicky instead of cool.

Potter does have some pipes, though. The woman can really sing with soul and didn’t miss a note. But she could use some songwriting lessons. Probably wouldn’t hurt to ditch the mom jeans, either.