He comes across like a cut-price Bruce Springsteen backed by a hybrid mixture of The Band and Big Star, but Ryan Adams - the latest in a short line of genuinely good US singer/songwriters - apparently has neither the stamina of the former nor the iconic, essential creative nous of the latter pair. Yet there are moments at this frustrating gig when it seems as if Adams could easily soar into the upper echelons of the rock'n'roll greats - if only he could keep certain things in check.
Traversing rock'n'roll, soul, pop and country, Adams has come a long way in a short space of time. Two years ago, not many outside fervent alt.country fans had heard of him. Membership of alt.country's superb Whiskeytown, an acclaimed solo album, the imprimatur of Emmylou Harris and a reputation of not knowing when to listen to his sensible voices - all these added to his current standing of hot-shot new kid on the block. And you can see why, albeit in traces: with the venue's cheesy but effective glitterball spinning starlight in all directions, Adams and his band occasionally cook up a storm. Nobody Girl (from his latest album, Gold) gets the full loose 'n' cocky rock 'n' roll treatment - it's all swagger and pout, and it's brilliant. His effective signature tune, Oh My Sweet Carolina, is played with the crushing tenderness of a kiss to a bruise. Unfortunately, quite a few songs miss the target by a country mile, a problem exacerbated by Adams' keenly displayed, unchecked arrogance. But then he sings something like The Bar Is A Beautiful Place - the power of which, despite the clichΘd sentiment of its title, is a revelation - and all is well with the world. Clearly still finding his feet, Adams is on the cusp of something important.
Let's hope his spirit is more aligned to the greater good than to self-gratification. Otherwise, he'll bite the dust like so many other could-have-beens.
