Mofro

Forget “back porch music.” Mofro is more like whiskey-drenched “pontoon deck music,” boogieing down murky swamp waters. Main Mofro-man JJ Grey grew up in Florida, which helps explain the backwoods beats and woozy harmonica that swagger through many of the songs like a drunken uncle at a dysfunctional family reunion. The band’s latest album, Lochloosa, is a low-down get-down, rich with eclectic rhythms that move from lurching downbeats to danceable old-school funk flows. The guitar sounds as if it hitchhiked on back roads from Memphis to the bayou, alternating between raw blues and twangy classic-rock chord progressions. Lyrically, Grey’s got the bittersweet grit, singing “Oh the sweet memories on the road to regret” (“The Long Way Home”) and “Never saw a bullet that didn’t know a name” (“How Junior Got His Head Put Out”). And song titles like “Dirtfloorcracker” provide a good descriptor for the crunchy, dirty feel of the entire album.