Chris Robinson doesn’t mince words, and why should he? The Black Crowes’ new album, Happiness Bastards, isn’t here to play it safe. It’s a shot of pure rock and roll adrenaline, the kind of record you throw on when life’s too short for subtlety. Sitting down with Kyle Meredith, Robinson lays it out plain: this isn’t just another record — it’s a fist-pumping, riff-heavy, unapologetic declaration.
“I call it a love letter to rock and roll,” he says, fully aware of the cliché. “But it’s true. We wanted to make a record that’s soulful, dynamic — the kind of record you play on the way to the show, not after.”
After years of turbulence, hiatuses, and solo projects, Robinson and his brother Rich have rediscovered the magic that made the Crowes soar in the first place. The Shake Your Money Maker tour lit the spark. “At first, I thought, ‘Isn’t that what other bands do?’” he admits. “But the second we started playing those songs, I knew. This is what we’re supposed to be doing.”
The result? A record that hits like a boot to the chest. From the swaggering “Rats and Clowns” to the breakneck energy of “Flesh Wound,” Robinson and crew tear through each track like they’ve got something to prove. And maybe they do. After all, in a world where “status rules above soulfulness,” the Black Crowes have always been the outliers.
“We’re like a wild mammal with sharp teeth,” he grins. “Rock and roll isn’t a science. It’s visceral. You gotta swing from the trees a little.”
But Robinson’s not just thrashing around aimlessly. His lyrics are loaded with grit, mistrust, and the kind of hard-won wisdom that comes from surviving rock’s cruel circus. “It ain’t killed me yet, and it never will,” he growls on “Rats and Clowns.” This isn’t blind optimism; it’s defiance, pure and simple.
When asked if he pulls energy from a different place now, Robinson nods. “Most definitely. I’m in a place of unimaginable warmth and love with my wife, but that doesn’t mean I can’t access the dark stuff. Rock and roll should have that duality — the romantic dark side.”
And for those hoping his other projects — like the Chris Robinson Brotherhood — might resurface, don’t hold your breath. “I said what I had to say with that,” he shrugs. “The Crowes are where the energy is now. Happiness Bastards is just a sign on the freeway pointing ahead.”
Ahead to what? More fire, more grit, more rock and roll with no apologies. “We know what the Black Crowes are now,” Robinson says. “We know what we want it to look like, smell like, and feel like.”
Turns out, it smells like sweat, sounds like a snarling guitar, and feels like redemption.
Watch the interview above and then check out the video below.
