A good name can open doors, but it doesnʼt guarantee success. Derek Trucks is blessed with a prestigious lineage – his uncle, Claude “Butch” Trucks is a founding member of The Allman Brothers Band – but even if he didnʼt have that connection, his virtuosic musicianship, particularly his slide guitar work, would have brought him fame.

The Derek Trucks Bandʼs casual stroll onto the stage at Austinʼs La Zona Rosa, and their equally cool performance style, belied the fact that the music was vigorously technical: soul, funk, blues, Indian and modal jazz were all on the menu.

Knowing that he can easily slay a powerhouse blues riff, Trucks wisely chose to open with a pulsating, Southern-fried, gut-bucket stomp, complemented nicely by Mike Mattisonʼs soulful vocals, delivered with an extra helping of rasp-and-smoke.

Moving into familiar funky soul territory, the band cruised through bouncing jams like “Iʼd Rather Be Blind, Crippled and Crazy,” and “Up Above My Head,” the kind of songs that seem to pop up throughout their history, no matter how many detours were made into scorching blues or heady jazz.

And while there were those detours at La Zona Rosa, the band never lost its focus amidst genre hopping. They maintained a consistent pace and stylistic aesthetic, always showing tasteful restraint and rarely descending into self-absorbed noodling – the show itself only lasted two hours; a sign of discipline from such capable musicians. A case in point was one of the setʼs highlights, a faithful but expansive rendition of John Coltraneʼs jazz waltz arrangement of “My Favorite Things.” Though Trucks certainly took his turn in the round, he gave generous elbow room to the band, particularly keyboardist/organist Kofi Burbridge, whose runs seemed to glide over the light-skipping groove of bassist Todd Smallie, drummer Yonrico Scott and percussionist Count MʼButu.

Whatʼs uncanny is Trucksʼ command of his instrument and of the style – his playing, like Duane Allmanʼs, is clean and precise, which is no easy task with a slide. Furthermore, Trucksʼ soloing has a fascinating dichotomy: he exudes fluidity and continuity, creating sleek, effortless melodic lines, and yet his forceful finger picking style creates a slightly rough-edged sound, giving his tone a subtle sharpness rooted in the blues he grew up on.

Trucks is certainly a technician capable of dazzling fretwork – which he sometimes indulges in – but like many of the greatest slide players, heʼs first and foremost a mood-setter, using his extraordinary instrumental control to carve nuance and subtlety into every line. Like an intuitive ethos that Trucks and his bandmates infused throughout each song, the music spoke less of fanfare and more of feeling.