Slightly Tarnished, But Golden
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A century or so ago, George Sterling, poet laureate of San Francisco, referred to the town as his "cool gray city of love." Legendary Bay Area newspaper columnist Herb Caen used the term on many occasions, but it came to mind after listening to The Golden Age, the latest - and surprisingly lovely - album from singer-songwriter Mark Eitzel's dark-hued confessional-folk-rock band American Music Club.
As longtime San Francisco residents, Eitzel and AMC guitarist Vudi (the only members that remain in the group from its most prolific period) know and understand the city, its foggy waterfront, its shadowy alleys, and its Bohemian citizenry. Thus, despite relocating to Los Angeles prior to recording this album (the second since Eitzel revived the band name after a decade of solo projects), San Francisco is still very much in AMC's consciousness. Two of the 13 tracks on The Golden Age name-check the unique destination that Caen also called Baghdad-by-the-Bay: “All the Lost Souls Welcome You to San Francisco” - a gentle, loping ode to the town and its loveable misfits - and the album’s delicate coda “The Grand Duchess of San Francisco.” We know where Eitzel and Vudi have left their hearts, even if they’re working with an L.A. rhythm section (bassist Sean Hoffman and drummer Steve Didelot) and living in the Basin; they remain connected to the beauty, mystery and wasted-hipster vibe of their old haunts.The Golden Age? Eitzel may be playing the sarcasm card here. He’s never struck me as much of an optimist. But the tenor of songs such as the opening track “All My Love” - with Eitzel’s muzzy/fuzzy/sweet vocal and sonorous acoustic guitar picking and an open-hearted lyric filled with promises and promise – implies mellowing and affirmation. Wistful in tone, “The Sleeping Beauty” is about loss; it's also about acceptance. Even “The Decibels and the Little Pills” – a rambling country-flavored number that finds the singer staring into the abyss - is ultimately a statement of empowerment suggesting that we choose life over the cold alternative.2004's Love Songs for Patriots - essentially, AMC’s comeback album – was very much concerned with the war in Iraq, the toll it was taking, and the price that’s still being paid at home and abroad. The usually depressed and dolorous Eitzel was clearly pissed off about the state of the world, and venting. The Golden Age is more introspective and lighter than the previous album. That doesn’t mean Eitzel is going to ignore the elephant in the War Room. “The Windows on the World” – a hindsight-wise reflection on New York City and complacency, pre-9/11 - and “The Dance” - a rumination on violence and culpability that builds in intensity with a stinging Vudi solo - bring the personal and political together with incendiary results.“The Stars” is too much draggy lamentation for my tastes, but that one misstep is offset by the honor and determination expressed in “One Step Ahead” and the honest sentiment of “Who You Are.”Neil Young comes to mind, in the most flattering way, when Vudi rips off an incendiary lick or Eitzel confects a rustic waltz such as “I Know That's Not Really You” – like the echo from an liquored-up barn dance over the ridge. Still, no one would mistake Eitzel’s gruff voice and simmering turmoil for anyone else’s. And The Golden Age is the man at his revelatory best, working through his troubles and making peace with demons within and without – while offering a bit of hope and tunefulness in the process.
As longtime San Francisco residents, Eitzel and AMC guitarist Vudi (the only members that remain in the group from its most prolific period) know and understand the city, its foggy waterfront, its shadowy alleys, and its Bohemian citizenry. Thus, despite relocating to Los Angeles prior to recording this album (the second since Eitzel revived the band name after a decade of solo projects), San Francisco is still very much in AMC's consciousness. Two of the 13 tracks on The Golden Age name-check the unique destination that Caen also called Baghdad-by-the-Bay: “All the Lost Souls Welcome You to San Francisco” - a gentle, loping ode to the town and its loveable misfits - and the album’s delicate coda “The Grand Duchess of San Francisco.” We know where Eitzel and Vudi have left their hearts, even if they’re working with an L.A. rhythm section (bassist Sean Hoffman and drummer Steve Didelot) and living in the Basin; they remain connected to the beauty, mystery and wasted-hipster vibe of their old haunts.The Golden Age? Eitzel may be playing the sarcasm card here. He’s never struck me as much of an optimist. But the tenor of songs such as the opening track “All My Love” - with Eitzel’s muzzy/fuzzy/sweet vocal and sonorous acoustic guitar picking and an open-hearted lyric filled with promises and promise – implies mellowing and affirmation. Wistful in tone, “The Sleeping Beauty” is about loss; it's also about acceptance. Even “The Decibels and the Little Pills” – a rambling country-flavored number that finds the singer staring into the abyss - is ultimately a statement of empowerment suggesting that we choose life over the cold alternative.2004's Love Songs for Patriots - essentially, AMC’s comeback album – was very much concerned with the war in Iraq, the toll it was taking, and the price that’s still being paid at home and abroad. The usually depressed and dolorous Eitzel was clearly pissed off about the state of the world, and venting. The Golden Age is more introspective and lighter than the previous album. That doesn’t mean Eitzel is going to ignore the elephant in the War Room. “The Windows on the World” – a hindsight-wise reflection on New York City and complacency, pre-9/11 - and “The Dance” - a rumination on violence and culpability that builds in intensity with a stinging Vudi solo - bring the personal and political together with incendiary results.“The Stars” is too much draggy lamentation for my tastes, but that one misstep is offset by the honor and determination expressed in “One Step Ahead” and the honest sentiment of “Who You Are.”Neil Young comes to mind, in the most flattering way, when Vudi rips off an incendiary lick or Eitzel confects a rustic waltz such as “I Know That's Not Really You” – like the echo from an liquored-up barn dance over the ridge. Still, no one would mistake Eitzel’s gruff voice and simmering turmoil for anyone else’s. And The Golden Age is the man at his revelatory best, working through his troubles and making peace with demons within and without – while offering a bit of hope and tunefulness in the process.
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