The Horrible Crowes

The Horrible Crowes is the duo that lets Brian Fallon slip out of the wide skies and racing engines of The Gaslight Anthem and into something far smokier. Working alongside guitarist Ian Perkins, the Gaslight Anthem's longtime touring tech and auxiliary live player, the New Jersey songwriter built a project that lives after midnight: hushed, haunted, and unafraid of the dark.

The name itself comes from an old Scottish poem, "Twa Corbies," which translates to "two crows," and it fits the music perfectly. When Fallon announced the band in early 2011, he described it as the darker side of soul music, something slow that slithers and stays raw, with melodies and pianos that turn the heavy subject matter into something eerily soothing. Where his main band looks to Springsteen, here he reaches for the gutter poetry of Tom Waits and the wounded romanticism of Greg Dulli. You can hear both of those ghosts in the room, and yet the songs never feel like imitation. They feel like confession.

Their lone studio album, "Elsie," arrived on September 6, 2011, through SideOneDummy Records, and it remains one of the most quietly rewarding records in Fallon's catalog. He called the songs hymns for lonely people, tracing a descent into madness and, hopefully, redemption. "Behold the Hurricane" served as the lead single in the summer of 2011, a slow build that detonates into one of the most cathartic choruses he has ever written. "Crush" smolders with want, "Go Tell Everybody" stomps with a swaggering menace, and "Ladykiller" prowls on the kind of groove that rewards a dark room and a loud volume. These are songs about longing and ruin, sung by a man who clearly loves the craft of building a mood and letting it breathe.

The album met real acclaim when it landed, charting strongly on Billboard's independent and rock tallies and earning warm reviews across the board. It is the rare side project that stands fully on its own, distinct enough from the day job that it earns its own devotion rather than borrowing it.

Then there is the live document. In September 2011 the band played the legendary Troubadour in Los Angeles, and the performance was later released as "Live at The Troubadour," capturing the songs with the heat and intimacy they were built for. The version of "Last Rites" that opens the band's most-played tracks comes from that night, and it is a reminder that these arrangements were never studio constructions. They were meant to be sweated out in a room full of people.

The Horrible Crowes burned bright and brief, but the work holds up beautifully. For anyone who knows Fallon only as an anthem writer, "Elsie" is the doorway into his quieter, more dangerous instincts: a singer chasing soul and shadow, two crows on a wire, watching and waiting. Put on "Behold the Hurricane," let it open all the way up, and you will understand why this small handful of songs still casts such a long shadow.