Conor Oberst

Successful singer-songwriter, owner of two record labels, mate of Bruce Springsteen and face of American indie - Conor Oberst has ticked more "things to do before you're 30" boxes than most. The self-titled album he released last month is his eighth, and he's still only 28. But for all his overachieving, Oberst, who is taking a break from his day job with alt-rockers Bright Eyes, cuts an underwhelming figure tonight.

The principal problem is that he is burdened by a cough that occasionally compels him to hand over singing duties to members of his backing group. While this can't be helped, it imparts the feeling that we're watching a country bar band who would normally be playing for kegs of beer back home in Nebraska. When Oberst himself huskily takes over the vocals, it is as if the bar band has acquired a better-looking but still generic singer, such is the collective dedication to cranking out pleasant but faceless country-rock.

Things improve during the second half, when Oberst, making a supreme effort, becomes misty and tremulous. Accompanied by wistful keyboard swooshes, he sings achingly of "a sick feeling" on I Gotta Reason, and it is plain that he's referring to something other than his sore throat. Now he's on a roll, bobbing and trembling to the country hoedown Souled Out!!! and treating Milk Thistle as delicately as a butterfly. Oberst pulls it off in the end, but he probably won't count this as one of his better shows.

· At the Duchess, York, tonight. Box office: 01904 641413. Then touring.