It's been quite a journey for him, getting here, into this small dark room with cheap drinks promotions on a Saturday night in the West Midlands. By 'him' we mean Evan Dando, and by Evan Dando we of course mean 90s indie mascots The Lemonheads. Except by The Lemonheads we really mean Evan Dando. The one quote that was banded around justifying 'their' recorded return after a decade away was that he was sick of "selling solo t-shirts". A frankly preposterous claim considering The Lemonheads are as much his vehicle as his own pretty head, not to mention that his 'Baby I'm Bored' album was such a sweet triumph. What we can only presume he meant is that he craved the shared creative sweat and that romantic ideal of thrashing around a tour-bus and stage night after night with, if not his equals, his friends once more. Never mind that those Lemonheads he's touring with aren't the same Lemonheads he recorded the album with. We're sure he meant something. Either way, after 20 years of high jinx, generous melody and a bad decision or two he's come full circle, and seemingly by design too. While his legend's star isn't as astronomically high as say The Pixies' - partially because accessibility doesn't beget mythology - it retains the rights to a fairly raised plot in the sky. Yet still, here he is, off the beaten track in a packed 150 capacity side-room, under a couple of bright bulbs, playing timeless songs through what can only be described as a bloody atrocious PA system. And it's not just that he's come home to graze, though he clearly has, it's how it's lit such a fire inside him too. He beams like an unsoiled teenager at the emotional immediacy and radiance of the nutritious melodies that tear and abound, making enthusiastic we-three-against-the-world eye-contact with his current collaborators as if there really is something to share. All the more precious considering he has no need to share, and who would seriously expect him to? Whether the result of or the reason for his buoyant mood, the band he shares his name and stage with these days provide a remarkable backbone, metronome tight and pretty tuned in (save for a couple of off-target early vocals), beaming right back at him. It's an improvement on the more lumpen version he brought over for the Don't Look Back shows in London last year anyway. He himself is gloriously ragged, endearingly rough-cut. He piles into guitar solos with bluster and intent only to trip over himself and fall out of many backwards, although when he's tackling J Mascis' contributions to 'No Backbone' it's probably only to be expected. But he hauls himself back to his feet again and again with the warm familiarity of that charming vocal - rounded and lazily pitch perfect, naturally. The new songs are a surprisingly snug fit in amongst an endless avalanche of wax-sealed guitar pop landmarks ('Shame About Ray', 'Into Your Arms', 'Bit Part', 'Confetti', 'Dawn Can't Decide', Down About It', an audience lifted 'Buddy' and mint solo acoustic readings of 'Stove' and 'Being Around'). The eponymous Lemonheads album, just released, seemed satisfying yet subtle on its first listens, supportive but largely unthreatening to such a strong back catalogue. But tonight songs like the fuzzy, yearning 'Become The Enemy', the persuasive churned alt-country of 'Poughkeepsie' and classic, breezy Lemonheads of 'In Passing' and the brilliantly instant 'Steve's Boy', pull veteran shapes and provide seamless transitions between the bigger hitters. For the various times Crud has seem him over the past 5 or 6 years, here we find him at his most excessively content. And while we know he's barely aged since his teens, tonight in Coventry we'd go so far as to say he's actually come out looking younger. Relevant sites:
http://www.thelemonheads.net
James Berry for Crud Magazine 2006© |
