A great man once sang "will this night fulfill all our promises?" As your reviewer awaits the arrival onstage of American Music Club this lyric seems particularly apt. My first exposure to AMC came in the form of a tape of "California" about 6 years ago, and at the time I assumed that I was getting into yet another great lost band, whom I would never get the chance to see live. 6 years later, a triple miracle has happened. American Music Club have reformed, they've released an album up there with some of their best work, & they're about to play to a packed-to-capacity Tut's.
There's just a little cause to worry from the outset. It seems that AMC, a band famed for playing gigs with various members in various states of intoxication, are tonight battling with a communal case of the flu. Well everyone except Vudi maybe, who cuts a dash in a...distinctive shirt composed of something resembling Chinese mountain-scapes (well that's what they looked like from where I was standing),and holding a definite height advantage over his bandmates, augmented by his wide brimmed straw hat.
Proceedings kick-off with a deconstruction of "Ladies & Gentlemen" from current album "Love Songs for Patriots". The album version's buzzed-up bass & propulsive drum figure is replaced in this setting with a gently swinging minory guitar strum & sparse piano from newcomer Jason Borger. The most immediate impression on this reviewer is made by the sheer power of Eitzel's vocal. Flu or no flu, Eitzel is in some kind of fine voice, and the berating quality of the original vocal on "Ladies & Gentlemen" is tonight superseded by a pleading urgency.
Any remaining flu related worries have been dispatched by midway through "Gratitude Walks", Tim Mooney in particular making his presence felt, with fills contributing to the head of steam Eitzel builds up on each succesive chorus. By contrast, while by no means less intense, "Only Love Can Set You Free" replaces the barely restrained bitterness of "Gratitude Walks" with sweeteness and compassion, with bassist Dan Pearson and Borger chiming in with harmony back up vocals.
Eitzel then regales us with a tale of a hellish journey on Virgin Rail, seated opposite a mother and daughter intent on staring him down, as they bonded over an Eminem album on shared headphones. He concludes by telling us that it's a good thing he directs his energies towards song writing as opposed to, eh, gun collecting.
Somehow this serves as an introduction to a life-affirming "Another Morning" which culminates in a headlong rush taking in the hope and joy of lines such as "I want to smash the violins and the symphony, I want to see you smile with a real simple melody" along the way.
Just in case you thought it was going to be all sweetness and light from here on in, a double whammy from "Mercury" reminds us that AMC are even stronger when they expose their darker side. The chaotic, jazz inflected, maelstrom that is "Challenger" provides ample opprtunity for Vudi & Mooney in particular to rock out, before it gives way to a heartbreaking "I've Been A Mess", placing the spotlight on Eitzel's remarkable, utterly soulful vocal once more. all of this is balanced by his trademark sharp humour, "Challenger" introduced as George W's preferred choice for the new U.S. national anthem, due to a "close friendship" with Eitzel which had its beginnings in, ahem, Eitzel's cocaine dealing days in NYC. Sure it did Mark.
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Hard as it may be to believe, the band reach even greater heights on "Why Won't You Stay?". Everything comes together in a magical rendition, from Vudi's pure and direct slide solos (if you look real close you can see him mouthing the words) to Eitzel & Pearson's harmonies on the chorus, floating suspended above a somehow simultaneously solid yet incredibly fragile band backing.
As one might expect, the polemical "Patriot's Heart", centrepiece of the new album, doesn't quite match up but comes damn close, and after putting both themselves and the audience through an emotional wringer for four songs straight, some respite is afforded by the optimism of "Home". Both "Home" and "Myopic Books" demonstrate the band's relish for their newer material. Vudi seems to be in his element, creating all manner of soundscapes by means of a kaleidoscope of FX, but always exercising tasteful restraint of course. For "Myopic Books", Dan Pearson, having providing a vital underpinning on bass to the rest of the set, helps out Tim Mooney on supplementary toms, to gently propel Eitzels touching meditation on loneliness & the consolation of bookshops.
However at this point it becomes clear that we're in the closing stages, and that the gig is starting to take its toll on a band whose stamina has been depleted by flu. They summon all their energies for one final sonic assault, and "Sick of Food" storms in rough edges showing, realising all of the power and more of the recorded version. But as Eitzel leads or rather stumbles into "Jesus' Hands" assisted by the singalong faithful, the exhaustion is palpable. Nonetheless, before leaving the stage at the close of the main set, Vudi steps up to Mark's mic & extends his appreciation to the Glasgow audience, telling us that it's been much long. He even takes off his hat to the crowd.
The band regroup to kick off the encores with "Outside This Bar", written, or so Eitzel informs us, for a woman whom he befriended following her second attempt on his life with a bowie knife, and who saw the devil in pretty much every passerby on the street, which of course leads him to recall his Virgin Rail travelling companions.
This is followed by a well-spirited but ropey attack on "Gary's Song", during which, much to his embarrassment, Eitzel forgets his own lyrics, and an obviously wrecked AMC evenually take their leave after a valiant but exhausted "Western Sky".
Nevertheless, and despite tonight's health problems, the fact that American Music Club are quite simply meant to go on making music together as a band comes shining through this evening. And so, to answer Mr. Eitzel's question: Did this night fulfill all our promises? A resounding yes.
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