E-Mail This Article to a Friend As the Crowes fly Chris and Rich Robinson go their separate ways BY TED DROZDOWSKI

Music’s ability to transcend lyrics and create a deeper meaning is one of the strengths of any song-based pop style. Perhaps that’s truest in rock, where the singing can get buried in the din of slashing punk chords or hyper-amplification. That rock is a visceral, feeling experience as well as a listening one means that tunes can often work even when an imbalance between music and lyrics is unintentional. Which brings us to a promising Cambridge residency by Rich Robinson and a disappointing new album by Chris Robinson, the brothers who were the heart of monster-sized Southern boogie band the Black Crowes. Rich, the now-disbanded group’s lead guitarist, is playing Thursdays through July 22 at Brother Jimmy’s BBQ, the joint with a jock/frat-house vibe that replaced the House of Blues in Harvard Square but did keep the space’s excellent stage and sound system. And Chris has just released a second disc with his group New Earth Mud called This Magnificent Distance (Vector) that’s psychedelic boogie with a beatifically pagan attitude.

The Rich Robinson Band’s first show, on July 1, was more fun than Chris’s album, especially for fans of the big, bold barking guitar tone that was one of the Crowes’ signatures. Rich knows his zone, and he concentrated his Brother Jimmy’s performance on sharp blues-rock licks built around his mix of plectrum and finger picking, hints of country in new tunes like "Forgiven Song," and dollops of slide for color. There was plenty of feedback, too, even when he was just changing guitars or preparing to play a tune with his quartet, whose line-up includes Black Crowes keyboardist Eddie Harsch.

That’s where the imbalance came in. Rich’s amps were turned up so loud in the small room that it was impossible to hear his vocals with any clarity; listeners were left with only his solid playing to cling to. Early on, when a fan asked him to turn up his vocals, he made a wisecrack about using his "virtual soundboard" and suggested the patron beef to the engineer, who was already doing what he could to get Robinson’s voice louder than the din of guitars. Maybe if Rich had given the matter a second’s thought, he might have turned down a bit to allow his voice to be heard instead of mocking a patron. Maybe then we might have heard the reported-to-be-socially-conscious lyrics of new tunes like "Forgiven Song" and "Answers," lyrics that will remain a question until his album Paper (Keyhole) arrives on August 24. And maybe as his residency continues, he’ll remember that he’s no longer playing the Enormodome. As it was, Rich delivered a night of good, entertaining guitar playing that to judge by the absence of Black Crowes tunes in his set was intended to be more of an introduction to his artistic growth.

Although Chris Robinson has the satisfying raw-throated style of a classic rock singer — kind of a Yank version of the Rod Stewart howl — it’s the guitars of co-producer and stage and session veteran Paul Stacey and ex-Crowe Audley Freed that keep Chris Robinson & the New Earth Mud’s This Magnificent Distance engaging. Along with keyboardist George Laks, they wrap these tunes in a sonic wayback machine set for the psychedelic late ’60s. But Chris’s writing makes it tough for anybody who’s awake to come along for the ride. "Lost in the equinox/Like a flash in a blood red sky/Another game of paradox/Got the angels choosing sides" is the disc’s opening barrage of ersatz shamanistic nonsense. The lyrics don’t get better, except for the vocal-and-guitar unison hook of "Mother of Stone," and that’s largely thanks to the guitarists again. This album’s songwriting isn’t meant for those who’ve never cared much about The Lord of the Rings or Dungeons and Dragons. But if pop spirituality with a dose of fantasy is your cup of mead, This Magnificent Distance might be the best thing you’ll hear all year.

It’s too early, and too cynical, to predict that what both Robinsons are really doing is working their way toward a Black Crowes reunion. Rich’s solo studio debut (he now has a live disc available, recorded at the New York City Knitting Factory) deserves a listen. But for now, a Crowes comeback is the only thing likely to return the brothers to the Enormodome — if that’s where they’re still interested in playing — despite excessive volume or Gandalf’s best wizardry.

Rich Robinson’s remaining performances at Brother Jimmy’s BBQ, 96 Winthrop Street in Harvard Square, are this Thursday and next, July 15 and 22; call (617) 458-1048.