With high hopes, I drove myself to the Mercury for American Analog Set's concert last night. This was to be their homecoming show, the first time they've played Austin in years, and so I was certain that I would witness the band in top form. Yet this is not how it happened, and although I find it hard to blame the band, the event was an undeniable disappointment.

First of all, I've been to shows where the cover was less and the bands much less known, but I have never heard this much distracting crowd noise. Sure, the band's setlist included some surprisingly quiet numbers, but I feel that they have every right to expect their supposed friends and neighbors to show a little tact. If people wanted to chat, they could have gone to any other bar and avoided a ten-dollar cover, but it wasn't only the crowd. The bartenders also contributed by choosing absolutely cruel moments to empty beer bottle filled trashcans, eliciting halfhearted smirks and rolled eyes from the band members themselves.

It also must be mentioned that the soundboard team was clearly asleep at the wheel. Not once, not twice, but a whopping eight times microphone feedback disrupted the band's momentum. Furthermore, the bass guitar was so disproportionately loud that it regularly drowned out the melody. For "Modern Drummer," the last song of the evening, I was happily surprised to see bassist Lee Gillespie put down his instrument and pick up what appeared to be a DAT tape recorder, and for the first half of the song it was lovely to finally hear the rest of the band. Unfortunately, Gillespie slowly worked his way back into the music with a rather ugly tape hiss, raising the volume as the song progressed until it reached near ear-piercing levels. As the song built to a crescendo, and I raised my hands to my ears, I was surprised to find myself wishing that the show were over.

Although I am not familiar with the band's customs, the absent encore seemed to be a direct response to the crowd's ambivalence. As they left the stage, American Analog Set appeared truly disheartened by the lukewarm reaction they received, and I actually felt bad for them. Walking down the stairs from the club I overheard a girl say to her cell phone that the show was amazing, but I can't help but assume she was one of the people who helped ruin it for me with her chatter. Again, I can't really hold any of this against the band, but the way they handled these undermining factors made them appear passive, and at the whim of circumstance. I suppose their music is just better suited for a more intimate setting. It's a shame that the Mercury and its audience couldn't provide that last evening.