By Paul Robicheau

On this night, it was clear that Brittany Howard’s status as a force of nature came not from her bellowing vocals so much as the soulful subtleties she wove into high notes.

Brittany Howard of Alabama Shakes at MGM Fenway. Photo: Paul Robicheau

There’s never been a question about who’s the driving talent of Alabama Shakes, given frontwoman Brittany Howard’s towering charisma. That was true when the band rose to fame a decade ago and held true when Alabama Shakes returned to levitate MGM Music Hall at Fenway this week on its first tour in eight years.

Eight years seems like an eternity in pop music, too long ago for college kids to be interested and not long enough for older fans to feel as compelled to turn out. A second show added at MGM meant neither night was quite sold out, but absent fans of Alabama Shakes missed a group itching to pick up right where they left off.

Howard toured two solo albums in the interim, building on avant-R&B visions in more diffused ways, but she was already heading there on Alabama Shakes’ 2015 album Sound & Color, which contributed about half of Sunday’s 21-song, 90-minute set.

Brittany Howard of Alabama Shakes at MGM Fenway. Photo: Paul Robicheau

Brand names count, which may have played a role when it came to Howard reassembling the remaining Alabama Shakes core of bassist Zac Cockrell — who already played in her solo band — and guitarist Heath Fogg (minus drummer Steve Johnson, who had fallen from grace with legal troubles). But Cockrell and Fogg serve as quiet partners and tucked themselves into back corners of a stage draped with leafy mock kudzu, the invasive, clinging vine that’s rampant down South. As soon as the singer strode out in a billowing, frayed-tinsel coat to slide into “Dunes” center stage, there was no doubt who was in charge and ready to embrace the spotlight.

“All I really want is peace of mind,” Howard sang in “Guess Who,” strumming her favorite green Gibson SG electric to an old-school soul groove that evoked the Chi-Lites. And then came the surprise, as Alabama Shakes eased into a slow treatment of “Hold On,” reclaiming the 2012 debut single that the group avoided playing after it had pigeonholed them as roots-rock revivalists. Howard screeched its mid-song refrains of “Wait!” and tacked on a gentle coda on a hollow-body guitar.

Heath Fogg of Alabama Shakes at MGM Fenway (c) 2025 photo Paul Robicheau

Marveling at the turns her life has taken, the singer followed with a gentle “This Feeling,” caressing her phrases with its realization that “It’s gonna be alright.” She likewise testified on unrequited love song “Joe” over Fogg’s brittle chords, while “Future People” glided on the power of her cooed falsetto before it was cut by strobe-accented heavy rock chords iced by Cockrell’s thumbed bass. On this night, it was clear that Howard’s status as a force of nature came not from bellowing vocals so much as the soulful subtleties she wove into high notes.

Alabama Shakes also played two new songs that followed a through line laid down by the group’s proven sound. Howard grasped the mic to sing “Another Life,” mulling how to move on from a hurt relationship over marching ghost notes from the snare of drummer Noah Bond, who impressed with solid, supportive rhythms all night. And the encore-opening “American Dream” became a brooding song of protest, from a lack of opportunity to EPA failures. “I want to go back to sleep now,” she sang with effective support from her three backup singers, resolving “No time for dreaming.”

Toward the end of the set, the minimalist lurch of “Gemini,” a sublime duet with backup Lloyd Buchanan, matched Howard’s insular nature so starkly that a flash of light that accented one moment appeared to startle the crowd. After Buchanan took over with affirmations, Howard launched into a dirty, humming guitar solo.

The nine-piece group’s palette also benefited from the tasteful trappings of dual keyboardists Ben Tanner (who lent the dulcet tones of electric piano to “Sound & Color”) and Paul Horton. Alabama Shakes closed the set with the more aggressive flourish of a funky “Don’t Wanna Fight” and “Gimme All Your Love,” which crept into form with gooey guitar chords and staccato drums before taking off. Howard’s now full-throated cries were backed by orange bars blasting light through the cathedral of kudzu. The singer made it abundantly clear that her band wasn’t stuck in the weeds.

The Budos Band at MGM Fenway. Photo: Paul Robicheau

Kudos as well to having as great an opening act as the Budos Band, the Brooklyn psych-Afrobeat outfit whose brawny jams suggested the Chicago Transit Authority as a garage band on acid — with a three-piece horn section where baritone sax blended right in. Dan Foder played his bass guitar while pointing it forward like a divining rod, roaming the stage to stretch the limits of its coiled cord. And keyboardist Mike Deller got the crowd to its feet by wrestling his heavy organ off its stand as he kept playing it. He raised his hands to the sky as the nine-piece instrumental band kicked into an apt Vanilla Fudge-styled cover of “You Keep Me Hangin’ On.” The table was set for the return of Alabama Shakes.

Paul Robicheau served more than 20 years as contributing editor for music at the Improper Bostonian in addition to writing and photography for The Boston Globe, Rolling Stone, and many other publications. He was also the founding arts editor of Boston Metro.