The Temperance Movement @ Deaf Institute, 7 Dec

Maybe it’s just optical trickery – the Deaf Institute’s domed ceiling dilating the stage – but tonight blues-rock outfit The Temperance Movement appear super-sized, all stature and poise and presence. Then again, that could just be the road miles they’ve clocked over the past year. This three-date acoustic run is, in the words of frontman Phil Campbell, a “thank you” from the band; a telescoped victory lap following a lengthy and successful second album cycle. In this intimate space, the five-piece have self-assurance in spades.

Their sound is unashamedly nostalgic, but it hardly matters when plied with such conviction. Throughout, Campbell finds elasticity in his band’s plastic soul: vocals morph around the spectre of Plant, limbs flex in the shadow of Jagger. In this somewhat attenuated incarnation, subtler songs like Pride and Chinese Lanterns work best, especially where guitarist Paul Sayer’s lap steel is carefully deployed. But the fiercer numbers (Only Friend, Take It Back, White Bear) aren’t far behind: the overdrive might be dialed down, but the intensity remains in tact.

As celebratory as the mood seems, there are some sombre undertones. For the band, the last year or so has been marred by departures. Last year, guitarist and founding member Luke Potashnick left to pursue other musical ventures; as little as a few weeks ago, it had been announced that drummer Damon Wilson had also taken his final bow, the pressures of touring life proving incompatible with a young family. Tonight, America seems to be on the sharp end of Campbell’s scapegoating. As much as its culture both feeds their musical aesthetic and provides an audience base, touring its vast expanses is a demanding endeavor. “Every time we go we seem to lose a member,” he quips. No mind: if this room is anything to go by, the appetite for their import business is just as strong on these shores.