American Music Club

The opening lyrics to American Music Club's The Golden Age are "I wish that we were always high." Aside from the obvious humor attempted, this somewhat embarrassing statement heralds the return of malaise and discomfort — a kind of sick joy — that AMC have become known for. These guys should know better by now.

As elder statesmen of “sad bastard” rock, the fine, weathered gentlemen of AMC have seen many battles and sport many scars, but they tend to be a little too self-conscious about it. Until recently, is seems that Eitzel and Co. have always hit the mark with elegantly produced, downtrodden and lonely musings on relationships, addiction and apathy in the midst of love. With The Golden Age, AMC somewhat miss a little with an album that revisits these themes to exasperating effect.

This band is somewhat a mystery in that they've exhausted their pain and are continually down for the count, suffering an inevitable technical knockout. Their self-defeatist tendencies always harm them the most, which is really sad (no pun intended) — considering that Eitzel is perhaps one of the more astute and gifted singer-songwriters around. His musical buddy Vudi (equally brilliant in his own right) is in full splendor with a careful balance between graceful and dissonant guitar textures — augmenting Eitzel's continuous exploration of self-deprecation, humor, sorrow and angst.

A very calculated veneer of production deadens the whole thing, and kind of leaves you hoping AMC would just go ahead and rip everyone a new asshole by fully realizing their potential as a well-seasoned unit that (probably more than all the emo bands combined) effectively detail the loneliness and despair people feel as life passes them by. The Golden Age is a passive/aggressive stance from a band that understands its potential but never fully realizes it.