Greasy slide guitar—check. A spine-cracking backbeat—check. Cowbell—check. Chris Robinson’s sassy attitude—double check. Their early albums may have generated countless comparisons to the Stones and the Faces, but the opening seconds of A Pound of Feathers’ “Profane Prophecy” leave no doubt that you’re firmly in Black Crowes country, where classic British blues rock and sweaty Southern soul fuse into an unstoppable onslaught of grit and groove. Chris and guitarist Rich Robinson have weathered all manner of shake-ups and breakups over their career, but 36 years on from their iconic debut, The Black Crowes still leave no moneymaker unshaken. Barring a brief detour into glam-folk dandyism on “High & Lonesome,” the brothers load up the tracklist with righteously raunchy rave-ups (“Cruel Streak,”“Do the Parasite!”, “It’s Like That”) that showcase their ageless swagger. And their albums are always good for at least one beautifully strung-out ballad, with “Pharmacy Chronicles” settling comfortably between “She Talks to Angels” and ”Thorn in My Pride” in the Crowes’ canon of slow-burning spirituals.