REVIEW: American Music Club, Hello Amsterdam EP (Reprise)

- John Walker This EP from American Music Club arrives somewhat unexpectedly, what with group leader Mark Eitzel publicly pondering the band's forthcoming demise in recent interviews. An opening slot for Suede was blown out a couple months back, followed by rumours of a break-up which may have been started by Eitzel himself, followed by denials and more breakup rumours. Who are these guys, the Cult?

Notwithstanding the almost normally abnormal state of relations within the group, AMC remains one fine band. This EP reprises two tracks from the last full-length album, San Francisco, along with some outtakes.

The single "Hello Amsterdam" is a satiric look at the mythological American Tourist cruising for kicks in a land which is considerably less morally restrictive than his own, all the while maintaining a superior attitude. "We came from from America / so you could share in the pride / guilt, greed and genocide" sings Eitzel, who clearly believes patriotism to be the last refuge of a scoundrel. The music itself belies the actual message of the lyric - rocking, upbeat pop for now people.

The other San Francisco track, "The Thorn In My Side Is Gone," is an "alternate take," and this arrangement is even more stark and downright spooky than the album version. Eitzel is at his most desolate and impassioned here, repeating the line "I swear you could see me / if you could open your eyes" in the mantra-like manner reminiscent of a man on his way to the electric chair--like all the best AMC.

Levity is to be found in spades, however, in "The President's Test For Physical Fitness," a first person narrative where Eitzel and ace AMC guitarist Vudi meet "a major American rock star / in a shop" and are "immediately jealous of his hair / and his fuel injected / sports cock." The guessing game is on as Eitzel throws out line after line of clues as to this macho bonehead's identity: David Lee Roth? (there's a line about the guy's toupee). Finally, oblivious to the ambivalence which Eitzel and Vudi exhibit towards the rock "profession," the constantly sniffing, coked-up pseudo-stud advises the emaciated duo that they look as if they "need a workout." This one's worth the price of the EP for any true AMC fan.

Elsewhere, Eitzel transforms the standard show tune "On A Clear Day You Can See Forever" into a deeply bluesy lament, staring into the void rather than the sky. "I Just Took Two Sleeping Pills And Now I'm Like A Bridegroom At The Altar" (Eitzel is a graduate of the Arthur Lee School of Concise Song Titles) is almost formula AMC, yet still catchy as hell, and "Elbow Deep" hangs on a thick, rolling bassline that recall's Elvis Costello's "Pump It Up." Overall, not strictly essential, but still a must for the AMC completist. Here's hoping there's still a future for this band.