If there's gospel here, it's deep in the heart of blues rock and roll. A harmonious squealing intro is abruptly grounded by a stomping staccato rhythm and the shuffling story begins. There is joy in the telling as a shotgun delta progression leads into a deep Stevie Wonder groove. And it's all so casual it looks easy.
 
Showing up in the guise of Ben Harper's rambunctious East Coast cousin, slide guitar virtuoso Robert Randolph conveys the same true spirit of sincerity and soulful-ness in his inspirational playing. His Slide is telling you about the hustle of the street, cruising with a smile through life's rushing jam. And that's just the first song.
 
Giving Randolph's sound a specific genre is probably worthless and naming it's roots doesn't do it justice cause in the end you simply have to accept it as a new force in the continuing evolution of music. If there is nothing new under the sun, then the best we can hope for are new interpretations and combinations, and Randolph fulfills that promise.
 
For the Family Band there isn't a beginning or an end here, an ABACAB of song elements. It's altogether, all united by the Slide. By the end of the second number Randolph is careening around his seat until he can longer be held back and has to pop up for a momentary boogie across the stage. In the next he's brought some adventurous young ladies from the audience up to shake their thang while he introduces the band: cousin Danyell Morgan on Bass and power vocals, cousin Marcus Randolph fiercely kicking the drums and John Ginty counterpunching the lead on a Hammond B3 organ.
 
Half of Randolph's set consisted of covers, showing a broad range of influences that all make sense under his assured hand: blues classic Slim Harpo's "Shake Your Hips", Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" (during which his guitar literally sings the lyrics), Mississippi Fred McDowell's "You Gotta Move", and Jimi Hendrix's "Voodoo Chile". As if to prove the man has legs as well, the band ripped through an extended jam with Randolph towering over the stage while playing a hollow bodied electric guitar.
 
By the encore, though, we're back to form as Randolph leads us out with a shimmying wa wa that wanders down smoking alleys of lightness. Who cares where the man came from, what's important now is where he's going.