Any time a musical ensemble manages to accumulate a 25 year career, it’s rightfully considered a milestone. Consequently, we find Greensky Bluegrass marking their own occasion by not only looking back on their legacy, but also by offering a fresh rebranding as well. Their efforts result in a new set of songs that combines covers, new band favorites waiting for release, and original material that underscores their ability to consistently move on. To further mark this auspicious occasion, they’ve also enlisted a distinguished cast of collaborators as a means of elevating their intent.
To some, this may hint at self indulgence, but given their esteemed status as the band that helped fuse progressive bluegrass with a jam band mentality, a self congratulatory nod is entirely in order. Likewise, given the adept arrangements and astute instrumentation, XXV becomes an ideal example of both versatility and verve.
From the rapid-fire flourish of Can’t Stop Now (which finds Sam Bush reprising his role from the New Grass Revival original), the Latin rhythms of Who Is Federico?, and the driving and determined Reverend Heat (featuring Billy Strings), to the sprawling ballad Broken Highways, the piano-driven Windshield, and the thoughtful repast of Past My Prime (with Nathaniel Rateliff), the music moves with an ease and agility that reflect Greensky’s musical vision.
In that regard, every track offers its own appeal, be it the extended jam that plays out in Last Water In the Copper County or the thoughtful sentiments implied in the rambling instrumental 33443. So too, when Aoife O’Donovan and Ivan Neville lend their voices to the caressing Lose My Way, it becomes something akin to a superstar summit.
Then again, ever since their founding in that seemingly unlikely bluegrass haven, Kalamazoo, Michigan, the quintet—Anders Beck (dobro), Michael Arlen Bont (banjo), Dave Bruzza (guitar), Mike Devol (upright bass), and Paul Hoffman (mandolin) — has made it a point to expand their boundaries in such a way they’ve become festival favorites in the process.
Ultimately then, XXV is nothing less than a cause for special celebration. To borrow the name of a certain brass-infused offering titled What You Need, the music’s consistently compelling. Or, as the album’s final entry, Drink Up and Go Home, implies, there’s ample reason to feel satisfied.
