The term "alt-country" has been so liberally slapped on music of varying quality and style recently that it has become lazy shorthand for all manner of American alternative music. In truth, Grand Drive have little in common with others bandied under the alt-country umbrella, eschewing bluegrass and banjos and steering dangerously close to the middle of the road.

Their love of AOR radio classics is evident from the outset, when Julian Wilson looks up from his keyboard to compare the sprawling bar room crowd to the horizon-defying audience on the sleeve of Simon & Garfunkel's Concert in Central Park LP. It's perhaps a little hopeful, but Grand Drive evidently yearn for songs as universally appealing as those of Springsteen and Dylan.

Instead, guitars chime, choruses flit through the mind without sticking and the set is peppered with more than a whiff of Keep the Faith-era Bon Jovi. Occasional inspired flourishes such as the pretty, spidery guitar break in See the Morning In break the monotony, but a reliance on a 2/4 beat means many songs plod aimlessly.

Luckily, a chemistry between Julian and his guitarist brother Danny provides a much-needed focus. The self-deprecating banter they share is surprisingly affectionate after almost 10 years on tour. Their voices oscillate in fuzzy harmony, albeit dwelling on the all too familiar subjects of lost love, starry nights and departing trains.

Such derivative lyrics might be forgivable were they not sung in faux-American accents that, bizarrely for Australian-born residents of London, become even more pronounced live. When US actors do dodgy cockney accents, English cinema-goers shout at the screen that there are a hundred homegrown actors who could do the job better. Any American expat who chances upon Grand Drive will probably reach a similar conclusion.

· At the Fleece & Firkin, Bristol (0117 945 0996), tonight. Then touring.