POP MUSIC

Washington Social Club

The Washington Social Club is at that awkward stage, not quite ready for the big time. The D.C. band, which just released its second album, played its first headlining gig Saturday night at the 9:30 club, a venue that rarely puts local acts at the top of the bill. The group didn't pack the place, but it drew a good-size crowd. The turnout matched the show, which was solid but not quite a triumph.

The band opened with "Not a Rockstar," a new tune in which white-clad frontman Martin Royle proclaimed himself "just an indie rocker." That's certainly true. The Club's music, descended from such 1970s exemplars as the Modern Lovers, is pop-rock with a frantic edge. Though Royle seldom plays guitar onstage these days, his songs are still keyed to his fevered strum, and his vocals are half-shouted, as if he fears being drowned out by all the slicker musicians in the world.

Not that the Club itself hasn't gotten slicker. The one-time trio has become a quintet, and now has more instrumental firepower than its material really requires. (Second guitarist and occasional keyboardist Jay Featherstone was sometimes reduced to banging on a wood block.)

For all his exuberance, Royle seemed a little lost without a guitar is his arms. Fortunately, he wasn't the sole attraction. Bassist Olivia Mancini, who stomped the stage in a little black dress and sneakers, has expanded her roles as both a singer and a visual focus.

If Royle is not yet the consummate showman, he doesn't lack attitude. He denounced another, somewhat older local musician who recently told an interviewer that the District lacks interesting young bands, and ended the set by inviting dozens of ardent fans onstage for a version of Prince's "Let's Go Crazy." The song was a mess, but the moment demonstrated the sort of bond with the audience that might propel Washington Social Club to another level.

-- Mark Jenkins

John Prine

John Prine is easy to root for. After battling industry apathy and cancer and whupping each foe, he could have pleased the crowd that packed the Warner Theatre on Friday just by showing up.

Prine, being the old pro, more than showed up, however. The 60-year-old folk legend delivered a two-hour set that teemed with hootenanny spirit even during its many tearjerking interludes. The angry "Taking a Walk" and the humorous "She Is My Everything," both from Prine's 2005 cancer-comeback CD, "Fair and Square," were among the few offerings not written long before the turn of the millennium.

He turned the house lights up as the crowd took over lead vocals on "Illegal Smile," a stoner anthem and one of many tunes taken from his 1971 debut LP. He dedicated another, his often-covered "Angel From Montgomery," to its most famous coverer, Bonnie Raitt. Accompanist Jason Wilber set a soulful mood while jumping from mandolin to slide guitar on the tune.

Other nuggets from that first record included the soul-crushing "Sam Stone," a tale of a troubled war veteran's death spiral, and "Hello in There," the young Prine's argument that getting old is okay for trees and rivers but not people.

Prine invited opener Iris DeMent, who's so comfortable singing sad songs she should find work as a warm-up act at a funeral parlor, to duet with him on "(We're Not) The Jet Set," the George and Tammy novelty classic. DeMent stuck around and backed Prine on "Unwed Fathers," a brutal story-song about the shunning and shaming of a pregnant teen, and "Paradise," chronicling the downfall of a Kentucky coal town. As was the case all night, tears and cheers abounded.

-- Dave McKenna