Arguably one of the most influential musical groups of all time, the Band has an impressive catalog of achievements to back up the claim. Not only were they the ones wielding the back-up instruments when Bob Dylan went electric during his 1965-66 world tour; they’ve also got a huge list of their own breakthrough moments, with albums spanning two decades and one of the most distinctive sounds in music history. The Band’s uniqueness was due largely to the fact that their work showcased each musician’s talents in equal standing, with no single voice emerging as front man. This resulted in a depth and range impossible to reproduce, earning the Band a well-earned spot on nearly every critic’s list of the greatest bands of the past century. 

Palliard, on the other hand, is quite possibly one of the greatest bands you’ve never heard of. Best known in their hometown of Chicago, where they’ve opened for the likes of Magnolia Electric Co. and David Kilgour, Palliard came into being four years ago. Nonetheless, they possess a rare quality that can transform the fate (not to mention the sound) of any band: group chemistry. The effective (and equal) collaboration between these four very different musicians results in raggedly intimate, lyric-driven songs, with wistful vocals and spacious harmonies that allow plenty of room to breathe between the lines. The group’s latest album, Won’t Heal Alone, was recorded at Engine Studio with producer Brian Deck, who has also worked with groups such as Modest Mouse and Iron and Wine.

At first glance, a seminal rock band from the 1970s like the Band, and a laid-back group of present-day Chicago rockers such as Palliard, may not appear to have much in common. But a closer look reveals some surprising parallels that go beyond equal member collaboration and well into the depths of the groups, from their final incarnations in the studio to the histories that brought them to those points.

The original line-up of the Band (first known as Ronnie Hawkins and the Hawks) was formed in the depths of Arkansas as a rockabilly band, backing singer Ronnie Hawkins. Over the next few years, the group found themselves on constant tour in Canada; in 1959 Hawkins and Helm moved to Toronto permanently and recruited an all-Canadian line-up of musicians to join them. Hawkins would part ways with the group a few years later, leading to the well-known line-up that would go through several name and fate changes to become the Band. A curious merging of North versus South, the sound of the group began to develop during this time, with each member bringing his own musical pedigree, talents, and influences to the table.

The same can be said for Palliard, whose members may not span borders, but certainly span the nation. Chris Hamsher and Justin Brown, the two earliest members of Palliard, traveled to Chicago from two polar opposite areas. Hamsher was raised in Duluth, Minnesota, where his high school band opened for one of the early incarnations of Low. Brown, in the meantime, is a self-taught musician from Northern California with a passion for jazz combos. These two alone represent quite the cultural divide, but there’s more. Jeff Panall and Anthony Burton, the two other permanent members of the group, both hail from Massachusetts—Newburyport and Boston, respectively. The resulting sound of the group, banded together under the common roof of Chicago’s fertile local scene, depends largely upon this precise—and largely happenstance—combination of players.

The addition of Jeff Panall to Palliard was a pure shot of coincidence and good timing. Panall, best known for his stint as a drummer in Songs: Ohia, was a well-known musician in the area and had made an impression on the other members of Palliard, who were still in the market for a drummer. As fate would have it, they didn’t have to ask. Panall attended a casual Palliard show at the Art Institute of Chicago and was excited enough by what he saw to strike up a conversation with them afterwards, eventually becoming a permanent member.