Pop Music Reviews : Souled American Makes Its Own Kind of Folk

Observers of the independent rock scene have likened Chicago’s Souled American to everything from the Band to the Meat Puppets. But as this strangely affecting little quartet ambled through its paces at Al’s Bar on Friday, another highly idiosyncratic American band came to mind: the Grateful Dead. No, Souled American does not go in for cosmic jams, but like the Dead the group has developed its own internal language, creating an organic whole out of parts that, in and of themselves, don’t make a heck of a lot of sense.

Chris Grigoroff played it straight as he strummed his guitar and gruffly whined the saga of a “Maw’Boro Man” (from the group’s recent album “Flubber”), but Joe Adducci’s burping, free-style bass wandered all over the road map, guitarist Scott Tuma’s scratchy noodling hit everything but the beat, and Jamey Barnard’s ticky-tap drumming was so minimalist as to be translucent. Souled American made its own kind of “folk music,” whether playing country at a snail’s drawl or igniting a barn burner like “Full Picture.” Taking a lesser-known route but arriving in unique form, Souled American might be the most intriguing grass-roots discovery of the year.