Boston’s Sons of Levin are back with a thunderclap of a single. ‘Ecclesiastes’ is a kinetic blend of blues grit, funk rhythm, and rock ’n’ roll rebellion that pulses with the kind of conviction you can’t fake. Carried by a band clearly locked into its own pocket, the track arrives as a bold statement.
Fronted by brothers Dylan and Connor Levinson, Sons of Levin bring a rare sense of cohesion to the table. Dylan’s vocals ring out with urgency and soul, while Connor’s guitar lines cut through the groove like a preacher with a message. Beneath them, a dynamic collective of players, including Dana Goodwin and Jesse Mattison on duelling keys, Connor Frawley on bass, and Ben Kersh on drums, propel the track forward with layered energy and vintage cool.
‘Ecclesiastes’ is steeped in the classic ethos of socially aware rock. But where others might veer toward nostalgia, Sons of Levin push forward with fresh fire. The track confronts collective fears and societal disarray with a groove that insists on joy, resilience, and resistance. It moves, swings, and demands that you feel something.
There’s a deep reverence here for the lineage of improvisational rock and soul, echoes of Allman Brothers jams, Grateful Dead fluidity, and Stevie Wonder’s rhythmic genius, but it’s fused with a distinctly modern edge.
If ‘Ecclesiastes’ is any indication, the band’s forthcoming EP will be a powerful testament to what live-driven, message-forward rock can still do in the right hands. At a time when connection feels fractured and joy feels politicised, Sons of Levin offer a reminder that music, at its funkiest, rawest, and most honest, can still bring people back to centre.
