Minneapolis' Davina and the Vagabonds lay it down with vintage instrumentation — piano, horns, bass, and drums — and hi-tone retro ambition. It boogies and woogies as if spilling out of Preservation Hall — or more like the parlor music heard in New Orleans' brothels of yore. Leading the parade, parked behind the piano, is Davina Sowers, a singer that comes across like a mix of Rosie the Riveter and a pin-up queen painted on a B-29. But Sowers' likeness doesn't adorn nose cones, nor is she building them for the war effort, she's knocking 'em dead night after night, town after town with her band's jazzy jump and swing pumping beneath her vocal Voodoo. Sowers' powerful, animated singing, specifically her phrasing, will knock you out.