The Golden Age

We Say...

Review by Matthew Fritch

Mark Eitzel, patron saint of sad bastards, first hung his halo with San Francisco-based American Music Club way back in 1982. Over the next 13 years, the singer/songwriter — along with core members Vudi (guitar) and Dan Pearson (bass) — cast a narrow but intense ray of light on slow-burning rock songs dedicated to boozy introspection and romantic loserdom. Eitzel went on hiatus from AMC in 1995, only to reform the band eight years later for Love Songs for Patriots, an album that’s a touch twangier and more contentious than its predecessors, perhaps due to its wartime coincidence.

War still rages around us during The Golden Age, but aside from “The Windows on the World” — a ruminative song whose title refers to the restaurant that once occupied the top floors of the North Tower of the World Trade Center — American Music Club is in a particularly mellow mood. Eitzel’s trademark voice, somewhere between Morrissey moan and Dando drawl, still lays bare a weary heart. But he’s often hoping instead of hurting (opening track “All My Love” is a come-hither slow jam on fingerpicked acoustic guitar); encouraging instead of self-pitying (the ’70s soft rock affirmation “Who You Are”). As a result, The Golden Age is one of AMC’s prettiest records, with guitarist Vudi mostly muzzling his feedback forays and the band taking detours into Lambchop-like orchestral country territory. With some new blood (drummer Steve Didelot and bassist Sean Hoffman, both formerly of country outfit the Larks) and a relocation to Los Angeles (where Vudi drives a city bus), Eitzel and Co. seem sunnier than ever.

But who buys an American Music Club album to hear a well-adjusted, content Mark Eitzel and his more polished band? Truth be told, the 49-year-old Eitzel is outgrowing his myopia and replacing it with stellar storytelling. “A Patriot’s Heart,” a character sketch of a male stripper, was the centerpiece song of 2003’s Love Songs for Patriots. On The Golden Age, he looks back at the city he just left with “The Grand Duchess of San Francisco” and “All the Lost Souls Welcome You to San Francisco,” the latter of which is a fond remembrance of the misfits, barflies and bohemians Eitzel encountered over the years. Though his bandmates and address have changed, Eitzel remains steadfast in his belief that you can go home again.