Hey - remember Adam Green, the shinny kid from the Moldy Peaches -- the shy one who couldn't really sing but put on funny costumes to make up for it? The nice Jewish boy from the suburbs who recorded goofy lo-fi songs in his bedroom with his friends and his mother playing piano? Well, he really doesn't exist any more. Instead, what has pleasantly replaced him is a bold new singer / songwriter on the Rough Trade label possessing all the conviction and moves that lead one to believe they've witnessed the next coming of Jim Morrison.

If you happened to have been at the Mercury Lounge on Friday, that would be a fair assessment of how the evening went.

In the smallish Houston Street venue which only holds about 200 people but has become a rock n' roll temple of sorts for hosting hordes of up-and-coming acts -- and a few bigger names taking a step back -- this Friday was no different; 3 opening acts, and a headliner at 11pm.

I initially went to this show with the notion that Adam Green is a has-been who missed his calling with the Moldy Peaches; a band that showed every prospect of becoming the next B-52s; a band having all the momentum (before disbanding) to rule the wacky world of rock n' roll in a playful way for many years to come. Although I liked much of Green's solo work, I initially wanted to hammer this kid for allowing his ego to remove him from such a well received and promising group, and allowing himself to travel down the mostly-dead end road of the indie-kid-gone-solo. I was proven wrong.

Green commanded his band, and his audience, with conviction and confidence, and left the entire venue screaming for more.

Throughout his playful and seemingly-unconscious effort not to take himself too seriously, I started to realize that this is just part of Green's shtick; his way of playing off the crowd. When his guitarist broke his string for the third time and took just a bit to long to fix it, Greens crafty response (that grew laughter from both band and audience) was, "You can't get these slaves to work fast enough." Or when he finally spoke to the audience and said, "It's nice to be headlining somewhere instead of opening up for losers," you really appreciated what he is all about.

No doubt. Adam Green is at the top of his game.

Green is all grown up now and has left the days of basement recording and East Village open mics behind. He has toured the world with his own band, and returned home last night to New York's Lower East Side to tell everyone exactly what he's been up to. In this power set of old favorites including "Jessica Simpson," "Bluebirds," and the evenings opener, "Friends of Mine," and a series of wonderful new unreleased songs, there was the beautiful acoustic rendition of "Can You See Me" from his Garfield album. The song begins with classic Green self-reflective poetry and evolves into the chorus, "Look, look, look at me doing this. Look, look, look at me doing that. Look look, look at the way that I am." The bitter sweat and mesmerizing words delivered with just him standing up front playing an acoustic guitar demonstrates that in comparison to the mountains of overly produced crap that infiltrates the airwaves these days, Green really is a special kind of artist. The nerdy kid with professional parents and all the making of an urban yuppie has instead become the rock n' roll voice of his peers; a kid who isn't afraid to tell exactly how he feels, and the musical savvy to pull it off.

His last song before the crowd demanded an encore was the punk-tainted "Baby's Gonna Die Tonight" from the Garfield album. It began instead this time with lyrics from Danzig's, "Mother, tell your children not to walk my way…" To this, the audience joyfully raised their hands with devil fingers raised high in defiance and mockery of a bygone era of headbanging cock-rock, and to celebrate the emergence of a new sound and performer whom has broke away from all convention; a Newyorker who has made his mark on the world, and seems ever so comfortable having done it.

And do we really need another 20-something year old pompous rockstar? Instead we have Adam Green; a poet, songster, and showman of a different kind who has developed into what we really need. That is, a gentlemen with balls and conviction enough to tell his own story -- the human story - in a way that hasn't been heard before.

Probably never will we see Adam Green perform at such a venue this small again, or as an opening act for anyone, but I imagine that's all for the good.

I eagerly await his next CD. You should too.

Also on the playbill were Los Halos, Bishop Allen, and Elizabeth Harper.

You may contact the Author at psychicism@earthlink.net