American Music Club

Our little island always offered the warmest shelter to American Music Club's first incarnation, so it's with great excitement that tonight's sold-out venue, one of several to run short of tickets on this countrywide tour, awaits their return.

With many aware of the band's long held reputation for gigs that would run according to the mood du jour (be it fuck off punk 'tude on one side, or fuck off insouciance on the other), singer and writer Mark Eitzel looks pensive, private and introverted as he makes his way down the Clwb's stairwell as the support act plays. The front row faithful are less than reassured later, as his surly frame presses past to step onto the low stage. Right now, he's giving a good impression of a man who'd find a naked walk in Siberia to have far more appeal.

After a quiet, "We're American Music Club", he lurches into the unaccompanied first few words of 'Ladies and Gentlemen', a song forceful in its gentleness, written as a call for generosity of heart in the knee-jerk aftermath of 911. Joined half way though by just keyboards, it's emotionally charged and stripped down, rather than the guitar heavy album version. The crowd give a warm and enthusiastic response and sensing it, Eitzel exhales and his mood lifts visibly.

"The last time I was in Cardiff, it was summer and the sun was shining," he bursts out. "The guys were all there in their nice shirts. The girls were all there in their nice dresses. And they were all drunk. I can appreciate that," he giggles.

"That's Cardiff!" came a quick-witted voice from the back, making Eitzel laugh.

Joined now by the rest of the band, they play 'Gratitude Walks', one of the best cuts from the 'Mercury' album, that languors on seedy lounge jazz, and Eitzel prefaces it with a tale from his home town, San Fransisco.

"I came out one day and there was a guy dead on the sidewalk, full of stab wounds. And the police were there, and they were just kicking him on the ground".

"That's Cardiff!" came the same dry voice, prompting ribald laughter.

'Only Love Can Set You Free', sails away on itself, with Eitzel throwing so much feeling into the rise, and rise, leading to the peak, "I've been so** lucky". Although AMC have always proclaimed themselves as a band of equals, it's inevitable that Eitzel's charisma and brilliant song writing, without even touching on his plaintive and expressive vocalisations, will naturally place the rest of the guys in the supporting role. Bassist Danny Pearson keeps himself to himself, and Tim Mooney delivers a very professional and infinitely varied job on drums. Jason Borger, the baby of the group who was not there first time around, did well on keyboards but he lacks the weight of character and familiarity to impose himself quite yet. Only moody, **Vudi participates just as an axe-man should, with squalls of screaming guitar and feedback, delivered deadpan but occasionally strutting.

'Another Morning', passed off in the busy, hungry Clwb, with its inbuilt serenity remaining intact.

_"Now you're apple pie and you're bullet proof."

'Challenger' should have been the head fuck, black sheep of the back catalogue of old, but for whatever reason, they opted for a slower take which diluted its normally intense complexion.

"My good friend George Bush really loves this song," breezed a poker faced Eitzel. "So much so, that he's asked if he can adopt it for his campaigns."

Then, dispelling the crowd's evident unease with the calibre of Eitzel's irony, comes a true AMC classic, - 'I've Been a Mess'. One of Eitzel's greatest assets as songwriter is the way he doesn't hold back. If a song demands gut wrenching, uncomfortable emotion, then that is what it gets, in complete disregard to the various management types over years and their concerns about courting airplay and record sales. Pah!

Throwing his head back and howling, "I've been a mess since you've been gone", brings tears to the eyes of both man and beast.

Then a surprise: 'Patriot's Heart' from the new album begins and about three words in, the crowd actually cheers on recognition! I mean, this is Cardiff, and a packed Cardiff at that. Amazing! It's as though Pixies have started to play 'Wave of Mutilation'.

With the first verse, a relaxed and sweating Eitzel is acting-up, a bit pouty, a bit faux-sexy. The song describes a mail stripper so he turns his side to the crowd and, as if he were up for business, made to show us his ass, revealing the first couple of inches of boxers and bare flesh. The front row screamed with mock horror, lust or delight, and Eitzel cracked up laughing, before pulling the song back on track.

A later retrieved set list showed they had intended to close on another awsome favourite, 'Western Sky' but someone had called for 'Outside this Bar, and the band were happy to change their plans.

After the gig's brief false start, there was a fabulous warmth emanating from the band and the superb, but modest, showman to the crowd then back again. For a bunch of 40-somethings with a cult image to uphold, all evidence from tonight makes a transfer to that of Alt. Mainstream darlings, highly likely.