LIVE REVIEW + PHOTOS: JJ Grey & Mofro in Beverly, MA (02.15.26)
There are concerts that feel like spectacles, and then there are concerts that feel like someone pulling up a chair across from you and telling the truth.
“An Intimate Evening with JJ Grey & Mofro” at The Cabot was the latter.
No opener. No hurry. Just a Floribama caravan of soul, swamp, funk, and grit settling into Beverly for the first time. The stage glowed like a Southern living room at dusk, warm floor lamps casting honeyed halos around a lone chair waiting for JJ. Compared to last summer’s high-voltage outing at MGM Music Hall at Fenway alongside Trombone Shorty & Orleans Avenue and Dumpstaphunk, where Shorty headlined and the energy was explosive, this Cabot show felt like being invited into the band’s kitchen. Same flavor, deeper simmer.
They opened with “Lochloosa,” and you could feel the room exhale. That song is less an opener and more a compass, pointing straight toward northern Florida’s moss-draped waters. Every time I’ve seen them since I first started shooting their shows in 2018, “Lochloosa” arrives with a different preamble, a new shade of memory about love, fishing lines, and the finding those moments or places that take you away from all of life’s stress. This night, the story was leaner, less winding. JJ seemed eager to let the song speak for itself. What made this “Lochloosa” glow differently was the interplay between two young female backing vocalists, trading lines like sunlight bouncing off ripples. Their harmonies added fresh pigments to a familiar canvas, lifting the chorus into something both familiar yet newly minted.
The full band setup was formidable. Three horn players stood to JJ’s left, brassy and tight. Two guitars stitched together rhythm and bite. Keys swelled and sighed. Bass and drums locked into that unmistakable Mofro pocket, equal parts church and juke joint. A few new faces appeared among the ranks, but much of the core remained intact, the kind of seasoned chemistry that cannot be faked. JJ himself sang like a man lowering a bucket into a deep well and hauling up whatever comes with it. Since “Country Ghetto” first grabbed me back in 2007, he has remained one of the most dynamic performers to witness and photograph. He does not perform songs so much as inhabit them. Throughout the evening, a glass of what looked like whiskey rested nearby, possibly his own Rooster label, with a thermos stationed like a silent sidekick. As the night wore on, he sipped more often, and the stories grew heavier and more tender, as if the amber liquid were loosening the hinges on memory.
The setlist roamed confidently through the catalog. “Country Ghetto” hit with that swampy swagger. “The Island” and “Top of the World” balanced grit with uplift. “Hide & Seek” simmered. A heartfelt take on John Anderson’s “Seminole Wind” is always a highlight, as he mentioned this was his favorite song of all time. So, certainly delivered with heartfelt conviction and reverence. Selections from the new album “The Rooster” landed strong, particularly the title track, which strutted with barnyard bravado and razor-edged groove. Deep cuts mingled comfortably with staples like “Orange Blossoms” and “Ol’ Glory,” each tune unfolding without rush. With no opener to compress the night, the band stretched out, giving the audience the full measure of their musical DNA.
The encore brought a surprise. “Hurricane,” a brand-new song JJ mentioned had “written itself,” opened the final encore. I had secretly hoped it might Bob Dylan famous track about boxer Rubin Carter , but this was something else entirely. Inspired by the last major hurricane to barrel through Florida, the song carried a weight that felt lived in. It was less about wind and more about what remains after. The performance was raw and unguarded, the horns moaning like distant weather sirens. They closed with “Brave Lil’ Fighter” and “Brighter Days,” sending the crowd back into the cold Massachusetts night warmed from the inside out.
What strikes me every time is how no two JJ Grey & Mofro shows feel identical. The setlists shift. The stories morph. The emotional temperature changes with the tide. Yet what remains is that deep, soulful current that runs beneath it all.
At The Cabot, that current was allowed to flood the room. Absolutely killer show. If this tour rolls anywhere near you, do not hesitate. Some evenings entertain. Others remind you why music matters in the first place.
Photos – JJ Grey & Mofro at The Cabot in Beverly, MA on February 25th:
