Review: Dan Auerbach on a hill in Lynchburg, Tennessee

Like many Jack Daniel's legends, propagated by savvy advertising, the whiskey brand's link to music actually checks out. It permeates its history, with Mr. Jack Daniel himself starting a band back in the 1890s at the same time that he opened two saloons - the White Rabbit and the Red Dog - in Lynchburg, Tennessee.

It's the main square (really the only square) of this sleepy town that I find myself sauntering around on a warm afternoon, peaking into the old county jail, trying on outfits I can't pull off in the leathers shop and stopping for the locally famous 'grilled cheese on crack' at Barrelhouse BBQ.

"You with the band?" the owner asks me knowingly as we smoke on the stoop outside the restaurant, a question you'll get asked a lot in small-town America if you have a British accent and look kinda shabby/vaguely bikerish. No, I tell him, but ask how he knew, I sensed, that The Black Keys' Dan Auerbach is in town for a semi-secret show Jack Daniel's has organised for that night, and it transpires that the band had stopped in for sandwiches that morning, inviting the owner along to the show (I'll later bump into him there for hearty hugs/handshakes).

Sandwiches are no problems in terms of rider requests in Lynchburg, but alcohol is a different matter as the town, home to one of the biggest whiskey distilleries in the world, is, curiously, completely dry. Prohibition came and went and the distillery - which is the town's biggest business by a long shot - reopened in 1933, but Moore County remained resolutely and ironically booze-free. The ~6000 residents could easily change this with a simple referendum but have chosen not to, so not a drop of alcohol, including any JD, can be legally bought or sold anywhere in town.

This is not the case in the privacy of the distillery of course, which I drop into before heading up its efficiently named BBQ Hill. At the summit stands a large wooden structure fitted with twinkling lights and housing a bar, a stage and, as the name suggests, a ton of barbecue.

I must confess to not being familiar with Dan Auerbach's solo music, but as the band strikes up I see that it makes a lot of sense for him as a departure from the Black Keys, a dive into the roots of that band's sound both in terms of blues and pop. He's backed by The Easy Eye Sound House Band, made up of Elvis Presley's drummer, Dusty Springfield's keyboardist, Elton John's guitarist and Johnny Cash's bassist. This esteemed company lends his sound an authenticity, so the relationship between Dan Auerbach and Black Keys emerges as that of an American classic rock band and an American classic rock band tribute act.

With the sun melting down the horizon out the back of the hut it feels justifiable to enjoy the first half of the sat from a rocking chair out there, the melody's perfectly soundtracking the shift to autumnal Tennessee night.

After a point Auerbach and the band's style and sound become so laidback it verges on toothless, but this changes with the arrival of Robert Finley, a legally blind blues and soul singer Auerbach saw performing in a bar while touring and decided to bring along for the ride. In a red silk Western shirt and black leather hat, Finley pops on the stage, throwing out some wild moves and offering a voice full of honey and sand. So charismatic and affable is his presence that he's later swamped for congratulations and selfies while nursing a whiskey by the sound desk, as the last of the evening's light fades with the guitars' buzz.