MARK EITZEL
Moth Club, London, April 29
Bravura display of tragicomic brilliance from American Music Club’s master of mope
HOWARD RANKIN
THE brutal self-deprecation begins even before Mark Eitzel takes the stage. Pinned to the door of the venue is a running order that bills tonight’s main attraction as the “Eitzel Ordeal”. Luckily, the majority of the audience seem to know exactly what they’re letting themselves in for, namely the compelling spectacle of some of the most devastatingly beautiful songs of the last 40 years being undermined in real time by the man who wrote them.
Possibly inspired by performing in front of the Moth Club’s famous glitter curtain, Eitzel is in full cabaret mode tonight, doubling as both crooner and comedian, punctuating songs with cutting one-liners, off-colour anecdotes and even the occasional impression (of a wheedling JD Vance). He regularly stops songs halfway through to berate himself for having written something so depressing, before also berating the audience for having indulged him. And yet this constant self-sabotage only seems to enhance the overall effect. It’s like watching the songs of Leonard Cohen performed by Tommy Cooper.