St. Paul and the Broken Bones rose from Birmingham, Alabama, blending church-bred vocals with horn-fired Southern soul. Over the last few records they have pushed into psych shades and synth textures while keeping the set built on groove, organ, and punchy brass.

Gospel fire, modern glow

Expect a front-loaded burst before settling into deep-pocket mid tempos, with staples like Call Me, Broken Bones and Pocket Change, Apollo, and Flow With It (You Got Me Feeling Like) likely to anchor the night. The room skews multigenerational: crate-diggers nodding near the board, couples two-stepping on the floor, and first-timers leaning in as the falsetto climbs.

Behind the curtain, small reveals

The group name tips to Paul Janeway's near-preacher path, and their debut was co-produced by Ben Tanner of Alabama Shakes at a Muscle Shoals-area studio. Onstage Janeway may go barefoot, work the mic cable like a rope, and squeeze dramatic silence before a horn hit crashes back in. Treat the possible song choices and production notes here as informed guesses that may change from show to show.

The Scene Around St. Paul and the Broken Bones

You will see vintage blazers, bright suits, sequined tops, and beat-up sneakers, a mix that says dance first, pose second.

Dress sharp, dance softer

By the first chorus of Call Me, a clean call-and-response rolls across the floor, and strangers lock into the same handclap pattern. Merch leans into bold horn logos, enamel pins, and color-vinyl variants that crate heads compare between songs.

Rituals without the fuss

When the band turns to letters-from-a-parent ballads off Angels In Science Fiction, the crowd gives a gentle hush and lets the room breathe. After a peak, you may hear a brief St. Paul chant, then a long, warm cheer as the horns take a bow. Out in the lobby, fans trade notes on which breakdown ran longest and which harmony tags the horns slipped in, a nerdy chat that stays friendly.

How St. Paul and the Broken Bones Build the Live Sound

Band as engine, voice as flame

Paul Janeway paces songs like a sermon, starting in a hush, then pushing into a clear, high cry that rides over the band without strain. Guitar stays mostly clean and wiry, keys favor warm organ and tasteful Wurlitzer tones, and the horns punch in short phrases that leave air for the vocal. The rhythm section locks a deep pocket, then flips some tunes into brisk codas, so choruses land bigger without getting louder. Newer material folds in analog-leaning synth colors and pulsing percussion loops, but the bass stays round and centered so the groove never thins.

Small choices, big impact

A favorite live shape is to strip a song down to voice and organ for a long breath, then snap the full band back on a cue, sometimes with a fake-out ending. Less obvious on record, they often tweak horn voicings on the road so the stabs sit brighter and higher against the drum backbeat. Lighting usually paints warm ambers and deep blues to trace these swells, adding mood without chasing every beat.

Kindred Company for St. Paul and the Broken Bones

Kindred grooves, shared crowds

Fans of Leon Bridges often cross over because both acts favor warm retro-soul tones and space for quiet, tender phrasing. Black Pumas bring a similar psychedelic shimmer and slow-burn build that mirrors the band's modern edge. Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats match the horn-forward, clap-along release and a rootsy stomp that lands well in big rooms. Durand Jones & The Indications share love for tight rhythm sections, velvet falsetto lines, and classic arrangements that feel lived-in.

Why it resonates

If Bridges and the Indications scratch your itch for plush ballads, Pumas and Rateliff cover the sweatier, grit-and-grin side of the night. All four acts prize call-and-response moments and let the band breathe, with dynamics that dip to a whisper before a chorus hits hard. So if those names sit in your playlists, this show slides in naturally while leaning a bit more church-stage in its delivery.