Over-Amped Zevon Can’t Make Up the Distance

Warren Zevon’s strongest asset is his overtly clever, often incisive narrative quality--an attention for detail that moves like a street-sweeper through the California dream. Rarely does he give the impression that he’s reaching into his own depths for his material, so there’s an emotional distance to much of his work. Zevon’s performance at the Coach House on Saturday made that distance even greater.

Nearly every song was obscured by an over-amped, hard-rocking arrangement that sounded like Jo Jo Gunne on a bad night. Even Zevon’s more reflective recent songs such as “Splendid Isolation” and 1987’s “Detox Mansion” took on an arena-rock sheen, with perhaps only the bleak, science-fiction themed “Transverse City” being aided by a dissonant band arrangement.

Openers the Raindogs were a far more persuasive outfit, working Celtic and American folk influences into a roots-rock context that compares favorably with John Mellencamp’s recent material.