1,028 BOSTON STANDS WITH THE ACLU, featuring NADA SURF, JULIANA HATFIELD, BELLY, EVAN DANDO, THE SHEILA DIVINE, THE GRAVEL PIT, BILL JANOVITZ, The Paradise Rock Club, Boston MA, USA, Saturday 18th March 2017; 1029 THE GRAVEL PIT, Kevin Stephenson, Atwood’s Tavern, Cambridge MA, USA, Sunday 19th March 2017

Yup, that’s Boston…!

Damn, it’s been a long time since I’ve ventured over to “The Hub”, almost a second home to myself and Rachel in the early 2000’s, with 9 trips over 9 years, before a 9 year absence… Even with the kids a little older now, and with time and a little bit of redundancy money on my hands, it would still have taken Something Very Special Indeed to justify such a jaunt. And such proved to be the case, in part “thanks” to Donald Trump…

I don’t profess to be an expert in politics, yet alone the convoluted machinations of the US political machine, yet I hope I’m a decent enough human being to recognise when fundamental human rights are being breached. Number 45 has taken office and launched swathes of attacks on the civil liberties of minority groups, in the process putting a national focus on the work of the American Civil Liberties Union, a non-profit body set up with the express purpose of defending those rights. Many right-minded people seem to be looking to the ACLU as a rallying banner to oppose Trump’s policies and defend their rights, and it was within this climate that folks within the Boston music scene, most notably my good friends in The Gravel Pit, initiated the concept of “Boston Stands With The ACLU”, an intended series of events to raise money for this eminently worthwhile and currently much-needed cause. And, not wishing to ease themselves in, the line-up for their first event was an utter corker, a jaw-droppingly awesome collection of Boston Rock Royalty from the 90’s and early 00’s, topped with NYC’s Nada Surf, not only a band with a huge affinity for “The Hub” but, along with The Hold Steady, my consistently favourite music makers of the past 10 years or so. Not a surprise then, that this event sold out within 2 days, but luckily enough, following “permission to fly” being given by my dear wife, a quick message to TGP’s bassist and old friend Ed Valauskas resulted in my securing a ticket on the door. A similar facebook shout out to my Boston friends resulted in my good friend Corin Ashley (formerly of The Pills, the band who provided the soundtrack to my proposal to Rachel, back in gig 634) offering his studio futon for my short stay, and it was all systems go!

A visit from Winter Storm Stella earlier in the week, dumping a foot of snow on the Greater Boston area, briefly threatened to throw my visit into chaos, but the USA know how to handle such things, rather than in the UK, where a single snowflake shuts schools and cancels train journeys. So I had a bumpy flight in on a chilly Thursday evening, arriving to piles of snow on the sidewalks, but a very navigable city, so easily made it over to Corin’s place. Friday was shopping at Harvard and Davis, a quick trip to Q Division for catch-ups with Jon Lupfer and EdV, and the Boston Red Sox Fenway Tour! Saturday saw more shopping and lunch with Boston-domiciled old school friend Richard Wood, before I headed over to the Paradise, killing time in nearby “In Your Ear” before a quick chat with Nada Surf’s Ira Elliott outside the venue.

Michael Creamer turned up at 5 and ushered me in for the soundcheck, and I took a watching brief and tried to stay out of the way whilst saying “hey” to various folks as they arrived. EdV had suggested that soundchecks might be done by 5, but they were still in full swing, and I watched Belly, The Gravel Pit, Juliana Hatfield (along with Matt Caws of Nada Surf, on a Minor Alps song - Juliana and Matt’s excellent 2013 collaboration – which sounded verrry promising…) and Bill Janovitz all soundcheck. Wandered out to the Paradise Lounge as door-time approached, being greeted with a fulsome bearhug by an arriving Pete “The Peach” Stone and being introduced to his lovely fiancée Meghan. We wandered around trying to sort out wristband passes, eventually hanging in the upstairs “backstage” area with tonight’s performers as the venue filled up (luckily the lady manning the backstage entrance took my “VIP list” status at face value, and let me come and go throughout the night with impunity) and ultimately running into Creamer again, who advised he’d sort me one later – “got to see to the artists first”. Fair enough, totally understandable, I felt, whilst hoping this wouldn’t come back to bite me on the bum – which it subsequently almost did…

Met up with Corin before the witching hour became due, and I took to the already well-attended floor for Buffalo Tom frontman BILL JANOVITZ, kicking off with a solo acoustic set at 7.30. Sounds like a nice, understated way to ease into the evening, right? Hell’s teeth, no! Bill was absolutely on fire from note one, sparing us none of his passion, ire and bleeding raw intensity with a frankly awesome reading of the Tom’s finest moment “Larry”, followed in quick succession with “I’m Allowed”, both so strident and stunning that even Peach (who got, “to see Bill play guitar every week for the last 20 years…!”) was impressed. Bill commented, “[tonight] is like a post-college reunion for me!” and gave props to the ACLU and their work, before “Summer” featured a modified “where’ve my heroes gone today...” lyric reference to Chuck Berry, news of whose death earlier that day at 90 had been filtering through backstage. Typically, Bill turned this into a celebration of one of his personal icons and one of rock’s root metaphors, with an upbeat, inclusive and audience singalong run-through of “30 Days” which earned the comment, “that was wicked good, Boston!” and would have had the great man smiling down from up high.

A stellar “Taillights Fade” brought us back to the Tom’s usual brooding oeuvre, before the final number, a cover of New Order’s classic “Age Of Consent” was slowed to a hushed yet no less potent ballad, ending a stunning opening set. Wow Bill, you totally killed it… and this was only for starters!

I then took a loo trip in the downstairs gents (which I didn’t realise was shared between the club and the front lounge), then had my bum-bite, as the steward stationed by the bar wouldn’t let me back into the club as I didn’t have a pass – despite the fact he’d seen me walk past him to go to the loo in the first place! This just before THE GRAVEL PIT were due on, too… he was having none of my stammered and increasingly angry arguments, yet fortuitously Creamer popped up as if by divine providence, with a, “he’s alright” comment and a precious blue wristband. Thus freed of the nimby steward, I was able to squirm down the front for the Pit’s arrival, being introduced onstage by co-host Angie C Shaw. My first time seeing The Pit since 2003, when for me they were the most overtly dynamic, visceral and immersive “live” rock’n’roll act on Planet Earth (a position likely currently occupied by the mighty Titus Andronicus), and also likely the first time they’d played together for a number of years themselves, it was inevitable that their raw power and seething fire would be diminished with the passing years. Nonetheless, this merely gave their virtuoso musicianship, band chemistry and Jed’s songwriting prowess space to shine instead; opener “Where The Flying Things Go” and the bouncy, modish “Baby Gap” sounded excellent, crystal clear, before ceding to newie and more showtune-esque “Mr. Baby”, before “Why”, darker and more brooding.

A plug for tomorrow’s Pit matinee show at Atwood’s Tavern followed (“that show’s a benefit for The Gravel Pit!” announced a playful Jed) before a couple of other newies followed, the galloping “Wreck Of The Triple One” a highlight. A timecheck for the already late-running schedule (Jed, “what’s the time?”; EdV, “don’t care!”) preceded a jaunty “Bucket” with EdV’s bass solo and Jed’s cod-reggae guitar licks a duelling feature, then closer and set highlight “Something’s Growing Inside”, grungy and growling, left us with a taste of the “old” Pit, a vignette to finish a superbly judged, low-key yet wonderfully sounding set.

I popped up backstage to offer congrats to the Pit boys just as Evan Dando arrived, so took a quick opportunity for a pic but didn’t hold him up as he was due onstage next. Just as I’d thanked him and was making my way out, however, I heard the slash of a familiar “live” guitar riff and an unmistakable strident voice from downstairs… fuck me, that’s Aaron Perrino’s voice!! And sure enough; Angie C Shaw had announced to the crowd, “it wouldn’t be a 90’s celebration without THE SHEILA DIVINE!” and there they were… well, two thirds, anyway… turned out that Creamer had gotten wind that Evan might be a late arrival or even a no-show, and primed Aaron and TSD bassist Jim Gilbert that they might be needed as short notice stand-ins, then apparently told Gravel Pit drummer Pete Caldes (who’d drummed one tour for the Sheilas back in 2000, between drummers Shawn Sears and Ryan Dolan) to stay put after the Pit set! A powerful, screamingly emotive run-through TSD classics “Like A Criminal” and “Hum” in front of a frantic and incredulous audience ensued, Jim as usual owning it, looking 10 feet tall on the Paradise stage, and Aaron cheekily slipping in a “Rudderless” lyrical reference (Angie told me at Atwoods that Evan, preparing backstage, had noticed this, prompting him to get a hurry-on!). Following “Hum”, Aaron announced, “here’s Evan!” and EVAN DANDO took the stage, bearded and dishevelled and with Bill Janovitz’ guitar on hasty loan, opening with a sweet “Being Around”. As this finished, I briefly popped backstage to greet Jim and Aaron, chatting for a couple of minutes only, before decamping to catch the rest of Evan’s set… which comprised a further 1 ½ numbers; a half of “Down About It” which was then abandoned in favour of a cover of country act Florida Georgia Line’s “Round Here,” which he’d introduced as, “a JA Happ number” – hang about, isn’t he a pitcher for the Toronto Blue Jays? Anyway, that was that… very short and a little frustrating, but hey, it’s Evan… what else do we expect?!

The place was proper old school rammed by this point, and I was also re-acquainted with the Boston gig-goer habit of simply not moving an inch when someone wants to squeeze through (usually offering a pithy or irate comment in the process), so I abandoned my attempts of getting towards the stage and instead pitched up in the VIP viewing area on the balcony next to the mixing desk (where I overheard a passing Creamer comment, “so Evan did 4 numbers and now we’re back on schedule!”). This actually afforded me an excellent view of BELLY’s superb and clearly recent road-tested set; from the off their patented dreampop/ college rock collision sounded tough, tight and together, their reunion tour clearly re-igniting the spark of band chemistry between Tanya, Gail and the Gorman brothers. A plangent “Gepetto”, a frantic “Dusted” and a creepy “Super-Connected” (preceded by Gail initiating an, “A-C-L-U!” chant and announcing, “[The ACLU is] the only thing that’s standing between this administration and the end of civilisation as we know it!”) rocketed by, Gail all leant-back Ramones rock poses, Tanya stomping the stage in her stilettoed boots, totally owning it. It wouldn’t be Belly of late without some technical issues, though, and sure enough, Gail’s onstage monitor threatened to give up the ghost before “Feed The Tree”, the roadie’s remedial work perhaps affecting the sound slightly during this and the subsequent “Now They’ll Sleep”, the latter particularly sounding ragged. Nonetheless, Belly powered through, and a feisty, frantic and effervescent “Slow Dog”, my set highlight, preceded the band introducing Tanya’s husband Dean Fisher onstage, to provide subtle bongo accompaniment for an excellent newie “Shiny One”, a woozy sway-along with an anthemic chorus. Nice! Techy hiccups notwithstanding, Belly smashed it tonight!

A bit more backstage hanging out, joining Corin who was happily handing out cards advertising his “protest song!” (a ditty called “Vulgar Stain” which still retains his trademark Beatle-esque love of melody), meeting facebook friend and fellow Sky Heroes aficionado Steve Latham, and grabbing selfies with the artistes (who all seemed to take my pestering in good humour, thankfully…) before hitting the VIP balcony again for JULIANA HATFIELD. The sole performer tonight whom I didn’t grab for a selfie and the one whom I’d lost touch with about 5 or 6 albums ago, I confess I wasn’t anticipating her set with as much relish as the rest of this stacked bill. However, backed up with the Pit’s rhythm section of EdV and Pete Caldes, you’re not going to go too far wrong, and I’m pleased to report she put me in my place with a damn fine performance of material which was largely unfamiliar to me, but which still retained an easy, laconic and melodic college pop sensibility. EdV had been bigging up her forthcoming album “Pussycat”, and newies “Wonder Why”, a slow burner with a big soaring chorus, and “Touch You Again”, a balls-out rocker, were standout tracks, boding well for the new release, and were, along with the older chugger “Candy Wrapper”, delivered with urgency and potency. We then had the promised Minor Alps interlude; Juliana introduced Matt Caws onstage, and the subsequent “I Don’t Know What To Do With My Hands” was superb, brilliantly smooth yet eerie, followed by a more relaxed cover of the old standard “Bad Moon Rising”. A few more of Juliana’s own numbers convinced me at least to hunt down the new CD, as overall this set was a pleasant surprise.

A lawyer from the ACLU then took the stage and gave a fire-breathing rallying cry for her organisation, shouting out the benefits they’ve provided and emphasising the work left to do, whilst also announcing tonight had raised $22K! Yikes! A fantastic effort (which would ultimately rise to close to $25K), which I was proud of my ticket/ merch contribution of $100 or so… This bumped us up to 11 and the floor thinned out slightly, so I risked the dancefloor, squirming forward for a vantage point stage left for NADA SURF. A racy “Cold To See Clear” opened, gorgeous and bouncy as a whole field of Spring lambs, then the plaintive yet pointed “Whose Authority” followed, Matt Caws’ yearning vocals already a feature. By the growling, galloping “High Speed Soul”, I’d pitched up at the front, in perfect view of the kinetic Daniel Lorca’s splendid menacing bass work and low-slung rock star poses, rocking out for all I was worth.

Matt Caws is one of those rare performers with the talent of making you feel as if you’re the only person in the room, that he’s addressing you directly, making the surrounding large hall melt away and giving the performance a personal, almost intimate feel. Tonight he let the music and lyrics primarily do the talking, so this gift was most effective on the likes of the touching, lovelorn “Rushing” and the penultimate “Always Love”. In between, a double of the incendiary, almost punk rock “Way You Wear Your Head” and the slow build to massive crashing crescendo of a stunning “See These Bones” ensured I’d be waking up tomorrow with sore knees. Then, all too soon, set finale “Blankest Year” saw a shout out from Matt to organiser EdV, and the modified hook of, “fuck it, we’re going to have a benefit!” featured 2 false finishes before the final denouement, each more raggedly cacophonous than the last, stretched and elongated, as if they never wanted this party to end. Further proof of that, if needed, was the encore; I’d caught a glimpse of Da Surf rehearsing “I Fought The Law” backstage, and the work proved fruitful, Tanya Donelly and Jed Parish joining the boys on backing vocals for a rambunctious rendition of which The Clash would have been proud. An utterly appropriate and all-inclusive way to end a quite epic night!

Headed off with Corin for my last night in Boston; then the following morning saw a splendid late breakfast in a Greek restaurant, my treat as a “thank you” to my gracious hosts, and a trip to Staples for a packing tube for my signed ACLU Benefit poster, before I bade farewell and headed over to Atwood’s Tavern, scene of the last act of my Boston weekend!

Hit the quiet early doors venue at 2.15, a small long bar with a stage set up at the far end, so I took a table nearest to the stage to the left, watching the place fill up and spotting and greeting familiar faces Jim Haggarty of The Gravy, and Matt Burwell, who’d been the Pills drummer during their UK jaunt (gig 634, again!). I also introduced myself to The Rationales’ mainman David Mirabella, a facebook friend since my pledging on their very fine “The Distance In Between” CD a few years back. The Pit turned up, as did last night’s co-host Angie C Shaw, who joined me at my front table, with her partner Dave and friends Dennis and Michelle, for some buoyant and entertaining rock chat. Kevin Stephenson played a short set to the assemblage at 4pm, a couple of blues standards interspersed with his own, vintage rock’n’roll influenced compositions, which dovetailed well together and provided good background music to the rock chat.

The Pit took the cramped stage at 4.30, Jed welcoming with a, “good afternoon!” and easing into “Bolt Of Light”, Pete Caldes’ rocksteady drums and Jed’s intricate farfisa organ tampering a feature. By a groovy “Favorite”, they were in their stride, yet, as last night, this was not the growling rock behemoth Pit of old, probably a good thing too given the size of the venue and the proliferation of children of all ages at this matinee performance. An easy, relaxed performance, picking and choosing as the mood took it, rendering the set-list pretty much useless, chatting and interacting with the crowd of mainly friends and family.

A galloping “Triple One” saw Jed move off the keys; “I get to play the guitar [this time], it’s an exciting instrument especially when electrified!”, and, following some teasing from Jed (“Ezra Messenger”! Remember that one? Well, keep remembering it…”), an unexpected “Rise Of Abimelech DuMont” (“part 4 of the fear trilogy!” quipped Jed) was as overtly “rock” as it got this afternoon, Jed nonetheless still reining in the big smoky voice during the strident denouement. “Mosquito” featured a lengthy stripped back middle 8, “Favorite Scar” was muted and slower than usual but still fun and “Tangled” was surprisingly rocking; then Ted Taylor’s 60’s standard “Love Is Like A Rambling Rose” ended this entertaining, relaxed and, dare I even say it, “mature” 1 ½ hour performance. A celebration of The Gravel Pit!

(The list ended up as: Bolt Of Light, Mr. Baby, Favorite, Bucket, Triple One, Stingray, Crybaby Vampire, Flying Things, Baby Gap, Don’t Do What You’re Dying To Do, I See Red, Abimelech DuMont, Mosquito, Favorite Scar, Why, Tangled, Something’s Growing Inside, Rambling Rose)

Fond farewells all round, then David Mirabella very kindly dropped me off at the airport, enjoying a chat about his band, Nada Surf and REM in the process; then an on-time and much smoother red-eye flight home got me back to Blighty at 7 a.m. UK time. National Express wouldn’t let me board an earlier coach home without a transfer charge, though, so waited for my scheduled 9.50 bus, home at 11.15 to be greeted by my lovely wife at the bus station. Thus ended my return to Boston; that was indeed Something Very Special!

834 THE LEMONHEADS, Meredith Sheldon, Netherlands, Portsmouth Wedgewood Rooms, Wednesday 30 November 2011

It’s been a long 4 ½ years since I’ve last crossed paths with Evan Dando, a man who still remains one of my all-time musical icons. My oldest son, Evan, will attest to that for all his life... However, an indifferent showing in Bristol in October 2006, followed by the awful Cardiff car-crash that was gig 730, last time out in May 2007, persuaded me pretty much not to allow Evan an opportunity to disappoint me once again. However, this tour intrigued me enough to shell out on tix, given that the set’s centrepiece would be a full rendition of “It’s A Shame About Ray”, The Lemonheads’ 1992 career-defining post-grunge/alt-country/slacker collision masterpiece. Evan couldn’t really get that far wrong, particularly when this time, he was also reported to be backed up by old Boston friend Josh Lattanzi on bass, and by American Hi-Fi drummer (and, lest we forget, former Sky Heroes sticksman) Brian Nolan, rather than the less competent back rows of The Pieces, to exponentially increase the level of musicianship on show. Could he?

So, Tim and Tracey picked me up at 20 to 7, then we had a wild and windy drive down the well trodden (albeit not recently) route to Pompey, unfortunately getting a little lost around Fratton, but eventually squeezing into a tight parking space just behind the venue for 20 past 8. Tix sorted, we scooted into the venue, sold out but quiet early doors, in time for painfully young first support Netherlands. Unfortunately some occasionally chiming guitar and booming bass drum couldn’t lift their material above Coldplay-esque plodding dull mulch.

Saw a familiar face poke out of the backstage entrance; not Josh as expected, but American Hi-Fi bassist Drew Parsons! Popped over and exchanged warm greetings, then spent 10 minutes or so chatting and catching up with the affable Mr. Parsons, apparently a late replacement for Josh, also hearing about the Hi-Fi’s tentative plans to return to the UK next year. Wow! It was a real pleasure to catch up with Drew again, all the more so for being unexpected, and suddenly I was ridiculously excited at the prospect of the show. American Hi-Fi, on their day, are one of the most incendiary “live” bands I’ve seen, so the thought of the Hi-Fi rhythm section backing Evan was mouthwatering, particularly as Drew promised he and Brian were going to, “rock it tonight!”

But first, we had main support Meredith Sheldon. Recommended by Drew, she played a solo set of Juliana Hatfield-lite strumalong alt-college pop angst which was diverting but oddly dated, probably a whole bunch better on record, but drifted a little and was also overlong, bumping us up to 10 to 10, by which time the place was rammed and anticipatory.

In pretty short order thereafter, Evan Dando took the stage alone, picking up a guitar and powering through a messy solo “Being Around”. The Hi-Fi boys then joined him, for the “Shame About Ray” run-through in order, which although being cheered to the rafters, took some time to really soar. An odd crowd, this, enthusiastic yet static, and initially Evan seemed to be dialling it in, seemingly a little fried and droney, admittedly suffering with some poor muffled vocal sound, but also swathing some of the “Ray” material in unnecessary riffery when a delicate touch was better called for. Drew and Brian nevertheless pulled a stalwart shift behind him, their chemistry undeniable, their dynamism and power exemplary, and “Rudderless” was an early and buoyant highlight. At this point Evan was clearly being carried by his band and the strength of this classic material, but “Alison’s Starting To Happen” finally saw some rocking, as I piled down the front, pitching up stage right two rows back. An unexpectedly fine “Kitchen” made way for an inclusive, singalong “Frank Mills”, and suddenly we saw a totally different Evan.

The “Ray” album now dispensed with in short order, Evan then delivered a solo vignette commencing with a gentle “Outdoor Type”, which culminated in almost a jig-along finish, and finally we saw the best of his talent and delicious dark baritone. A touching solo “All My Life” and “Why Do You Do This To Yourself?” preceded a short break, after which Evan and the boys came out all guns blazing with a superb “Down About It”. Indeed, this second set section seemed more relaxed, the set-list reworked on the fly as Evan, again seeming to play for an audience of one, nevertheless put more commitment into his performance. A titanic and incendiary “Stove” was easily the set highlight, fairly bristling with power and dynamism, before ”If I Could Talk I’d Tell You” rounded the set off on an upbeat note. By this time I was hoping to catch Drew’s eye to blag a set-list, but there was no need, as, whilst Evan lengthened the final riff, Drew unmoored his list from the floor and handed it over to me! Result!

We hit the road promptly then, enduring a difficult journey back in nasty conditions and getting home at 1 (yikes!). This was a late, but ultimately worthwhile one; the usual variable performance from Evan, lacking the passion of old but at his best personally during his solo numbers. However overall this was a mighty improvement over the last couple of “Lemonheads” shows, lifted by a superb rhythm section as good and powerful as any Lemonheads line-up. Great to see Drew again. And now I can’t wait for the Hi-Fi to come over next year…!

185 THE LEMONHEADS, Drive, Venus Beads, Bristol Bierkeller, Monday 8 April 1991

Found out about this gig by promising new US band The Lemonheads at the Throwing Muses gig here a couple of weeks ago when I was handed a tiny flyer featuring Deadline comic character Hester Buel. Not too well advertised, you might say!

So Dave and myself didn't bother getting tickets, but got down there in good time to get in, and hear openers The Venus Beads play an unnecessarily noisy set. Played pool and chatted to my Bristol friend Rob during Drive's extremely noisy and ham-fisted set. Two poor supports, unfortunately.

The Lemonheads came on at 10.30 - a pretty late one, this. Despite being a 3-piece, they like to crank up the volume as well, but despite also playing loud and fast driving rock, akin to Dinosaur Jr. and early Big Dipper albeit punkier, they also have some good tunes amidst the noise and did justice to an excellent sound.

They also like to play! After a fine 1 hour set, which culminated in a superb "Stove", they took the stage again and played an 8-song encore (!), again "giving it loads" full or energy and drive. Yet another band from Boston, MA, USA, treating us to a fine night out!

250 THE LEMONHEADS, Eugenius, Baby Chaos, Cardiff University, Saturday 9 October 1993

Spent the day shopping in Cardiff, and popped to the gig after a rather splendid Italian meal. Baby Chaos, with their hardly original but still enjoyable rock set, were already on as we arrived. Not too bad a start, overall..

Eugenius were on at 8.30; oddly enough, this was the first time I'd seen Eugene Kelly and his bunch of Scottish laze-rock reprobates, who were formerly the excellent Captain America and subject of 2 lawsuits during that band's brief life! They played a splendid set of soulful yet chunky hard rock, with the old Captain America number "Flame On" a brilliant highlight.

Screams (yes, screams!) from a multitude of grunge girlies greeted the appearance of the "grunge sex kitten", Mr. Evan Dando, shining star of this year's Reading Festival, who again exuded star quality throughout this spellbinding set. This was, you know, kinda like, a really cool gig, man (!), as Dando took the rockier numbers from the great crossover indie-grunge-country album "It's A Shame About Ray" and added a soulful lilt to them with his dark plaintive voice. The set just got better and better throughout, and after the hour, Evan returned solo and played a couple of acoustic numbers, then "Confetti" and "Rudderless", which were the highlights tonight. A closing "Luka" also sparkled with style. A great performance from a slacker genius!

335 THE LEMONHEADS, Cottonmouth, London Astoria, Thursday 3 October 1996

A slight landmark, given this was my first gig since owning Jack, a currently 8 week old Border Collie pup. So we set off at 5.30, agonising about leaving him on his own for the first time! Hit the Astoria at 7.30, only to find that eagerly-awaited (by me) support You Am I had a collective sore throat and couldn't play. D'oh! So instead we took a balcony seat and were entertained by Cottonmouth, on at 8.15. They played an entertaining set of driving, melodic and resonant rock, in a "cruising along the freeway with the radio belting out" kind of way. I also detected a slight Wonderstuff influence, maybe due to the singer's vocal inflections being similar to Miles. Incidentally, he took the stage wearing a huge and hastily discarded fur coat, one of the less advisable articles of stage-wear I've see in my gig going time.

The venue filled up rapidly during the enforced longish wait for The Lemonheads, and the sellout crowd was heaving as Evan and the boys took the stage at 9.30, 15 minutes earlier than scheduled. Nevertheless, a splendid hour's entertainment ensued; kicking off with a couple of groovy numbers from fine new CD "Car Button Cloth", the set really took flight with third number in, "It's A Shame About Ray". Evan was in fine fettle, and a new band, including Velo Deluxe mainman and all-round Boston axe hero John Strohm, did his cool, laid-back, melodic and heart-tugging strumalong rock proud. A brilliant "Rudderless" was the highlight of the set, much of which I enjoyed from an enthusiastic moshpit.

The encore was pretty damn hot socks too; Evan performing solo renditions of 4 faves, the best of which, "Big Gay Heart", was accompanied by a reverently hushed audience sing-along! "Into Your Arms" (before which I caught John Strohm's eye from the mosh, and he assured me, from the stage, that Velo Deluxe were, "still going" - good news!) and a bit of acapella mucking around by a now-exuberant Evan, brilliantly climaxed a superb evening's entertainment from a shining talent, and a band who never disappoint!

Oh yeh, and after KFC and a white knuckle ride home, Jack was in fine fettle too!

345 THE LEMONHEADS, You Am I, Portsmouth Pyramids Centre, Tuesday 11 March 1997

Well, it started with a phone call...! I happened to mention to Phil Hurley, friend and former Gigolo Aunt, on the previous Saturday that I was going to this gig, and he asked me to say hello to an old friend; only Lemonheads guitarist and one of my favourite axe heroes (thanks to his tenure in Blake Babies and Velo Deluxe) Mr. John Strohm! Hey, sure I will!

So, Tim picked me up at 6 - stick and all (my cruciate ligament operation kept me out of the gigging circles for exactly one month. Ha!) - and we parked at 7.30 by this seaside venue. The place filled up quite quickly so support You Am I (no scheduled first support She; dunno why!) took the stage to an expectant crowd. Their set was sizzling like raw bacon on a stove; powerful prime cuts of rock which smacked of early Who and Teenage Fanclub with rockets up their buttholes, with vocalist and guitar man Tim Rogers giving it the old Pete Townshend arm windmills! The set skated along like a rampaging ice hockey player, with "Cathy's Clown" (dedicated to The Lemonheads, oddly enough!) the highlight. Dynamic and hot stuff!

Well, I then determined to pass on Phil's message, so having totally failed to spot Mr. Strohm wandering around the venue, Tim and I barged backstage, interrupting You Am I changing clothes post-set in the process! We were eventually let into the Lemonheads dressing room, having used the "friend of a friend" line on a bouncer. One message duly passed on, we hung backstage with The Lemonheads for about 10 minutes, chatting with mainman Evan Dando (who was elegantly stoned, and impressed with my knowledge of old Boston band Volcano Suns sufficiently to remark to me, "you know your Boston Rock!") as well as John (who was more reserved, but happy to get his old friend Phil's current phone number from me, and also happy to give me a copy of his new solo CD! Superb!). A seminal moment in my gigging days!

After all that, The Lemonheads could not fail to be anything but Godlike, and they didn't disappoint with a brilliantly selected set of their best and most popular numbers, following pretty much of a similar pattern to their Astoria gig last year. I stood there grooving around my stick, revelling in the warm, friendly, heartfelt and glorious pop rock music. Country tinged without the mawkish sentiment, touching without being gooey, and driving and dynamic without submerging the pop sensibilities, the Lemonheads are a precious band back on top form. "Shame About Ray", "Rudderless" and a stripped back "Frank Mills" (the last verse of which Evan drew back from, leaving the audience to sing) will stick in the mind, as will Evan, still elegantly stoned but hitting every note of his solo acoustic encore, with his delicious rich baritone. I know it's March, but all bets are off now - this is Gig Of The Year for 1997!

464 EVAN DANDO, Chris Brokaw and Thalia Zedek, The Brattle Theater, Cambridge, MA USA, Wednesday 18 October 2000

Gig 2 of tonight after Seafood's US debut, and fun though hanging backstage with your favourite UK band undoubtedly is, there comes a time to depart. Or decamp, as it were, as Seafood had managed to wangle guest-list slots for the Evan Dando show, and they hit the Brattle too, a little after Rachel and myself. I believe they avoided having to stand in the rain, which Rach and I had to do, which does our colds no good at all. But hey, at least we get good seats - yup, this is another seated venue!

Following a painfully long and fiddly soundcheck, the opening act gets under way. The un-named 4-piece features Chris Brokaw and Thalia Zedek of early 90's Boston saddo-rockers Come, plus a couple of Kens as back-up. Thalia takes vocal chores and delivers a mournful, moody set of blues-tinged numbers, which promise to be smoky and torch-like but in my shivery, cold-ridden state come off as leaden and painfully dull. Rachel has the right idea - she falls asleep during each number, waking briefly at the end to clap politely then promptly nod back off again! A neat trick, which even former gig pal Clive at his somnambulant best couldn't have pulled off!

In the interval I get to chatting with the chap sat next to me, who has a set-list from tonight's first show (this also being the second of a double-header for Evan!) which I beckon Kevin and David Seafood to come over and check out. The guy turns out to be Geoff Van Duyne, an old buddy of Steve Hurley's. Small world. He gives me a copy of his band Army Of Jasons' CD, which subsequently turns out to be a damn fine listen. Thanks Geoff. We also get to introduce Kev to a stunned John Dragonetti and girlfriend Blake; stunned because a) Rach and I are in town, and b) Kev's actually heard of Jack Drag!

Places again for the emergence of Evan at 11. It's been a heck of a long lay-off (Reading Festival 1997) and with Evan's renowned appetite for, erm, "recreational pharmaceuticals", I wondered what shape he'd be in, particularly in the "naked artist" format of a solo acoustic show. I needn't have worried, however, as tonight Evan is in rude health and delivers an utterly glorious and majestic show. Lifting from the entire spectrum of the Lemonheads' quality recorded canon of work (yup, even the punk rock roots, "Mallo Cup", "Hate Your Friends" and "I Am A Rabbit" being delivered late-on with the requisite vim and vigour), Evan, stripped bare musically but for an acoustic guitar, is clear as a bell, mesmeric and magnificent. The songs, also stripped bare, reveal themselves to be simple yet stunningly effective pop gems in full bloom, particularly "Turnpike Down", "Shame About Ray" and the brilliant "Stove". Evan concentrates on the vocals, leaving audience control and communication to a single shrug or startlingly effective raised eyebrow. And the voice is incredible - pitch-perfect and superb irrespective of whether interpreting silliness (an odd number about "homos") or complex blues numbers, acapella. Everything is delivered with effortless genius.

The encore brings on Ben Kweller, the former Radish vocalist and still-young (19?) musical prodigy. Ben and Evan dovetail in superbly together, with a fine "Hospital" and some more blues being played with aplomb. Overall, though, the 1 hour 40 minute performance utterly flies by, and I leave convinced I'd witnessed a musical resurrection. Tonight belongs to Evan Dando! (Well, Evan and the cab driver who picks us up after less than a minute in the teeming Harvard rain afterwards!).

487 EVAN DANDO, Ben Lee, Ben Kweller, London Camden Dingwalls, Tuesday 20 February 2001

This one sold out within days of being announced, and having actually seen Dando in Boston recently, I a) wasn't surprised, and b) didn't hang around with getting the tix! So, taking time off work, Rachel and I booked a hotel (covering tomorrow's Emetrex gig as well!), taking a train up the Smoke and grabbing some shopping and a Thai meal before the gig. Crispy duck, yum...

Joined the queue at 7.30 prompt, and got in pretty quickly, getting a good vantage point near the front and pretty much staying there all night! Baby Ben Kweller took the stage just after 8.30, the former lead singer of Radish still a very youthful slip of a lad. Ben's solo slot was a rambunctious affair, with lots of oomph, passion and foot-stomping throughout. The songs themselves veered from well-constructed grungy pop - a little like Radish, in fact - to some corny country, and one appallingly bad number about travelling to Texas to visit his sick mom and worrying about his girlfriend behind (!). A bit uneven, but a well-delivered set with Ben's nervous energy well to the fore.

Next up; Ben Lee. A name I was vaguely familiar with but no more, and I don't think I was expecting the hirsute yet pitifully young (again!) waif who took the stage. What happened next, though, was a revelation. A clutch of superbly constructed numbers delivered with soul and power from this diminutive Australian boy genius, a lovely opener "Nothing Else Happens" setting the tone for the rest of the performance. I'd never really heard of the guy much before, but I'm going to know more, hunting down a couple of his CDs in Soho the next day for starters! Varying between deliciously touching and splendidly uplifting, this was a very fine set, and Ben 2 won the battle of the Bens tonight!

Evan was next up, spot on time, kicking off with a superbly delivered "Its A Shame About Ray". Once again, Evan's performance was utterly exemplary; the voice superb, strident and pure, the guitar note-perfect, the songs delivered acoustically and once again showing themselves for the laconic pop diamonds they truly are. Evan himself was in more voluble mood that in Harvard in October; "for anyone who was at Glastonbury in 1995, I'm sorry I didn't make the show," was a surprise, and a revealing confession from a man much more at ease with himself than the media-haunted and pharmaceutically-challenged "Dippy Dando" of yore. And the performance reflected it. Relaxed, he delivered brilliantly, drawing heavily from the country-tinged grungy pop periods of "Ray" and follow-up "Come On Feel The Lemonheads", with the fun, quirky little gems of "Divan" and "Being Around" highlights. A brilliant "Great Big No" revealed the reverence in which Dando is held, with the sold-out crowd filling in the "whoh oh oh" harmonies, and a touching "Frank Mills", sung in full by the audience, was my personal highlight.

Evan was joined by both Bens for the encore, before, once again solo, he delivered a great "Stove", burbled on about David and Victoria Beckham (?), then played a spoof "Feel Good Hit Of The Summer" ("Nicorette, Listerene, Head and Shoulders, Albasam, c-c-c-c-c-Colgate!!") before calling it a night. The perfect voice, the perfect showman; another brilliant Evan Dando evening!

509 THE 2001 LONDON FLEADH, Finsbury Park, London N4, Saturday 16 June 2001

After much humming and hawing about this, I finally decided to do my first Fleadh! Got tickets for myself and Ady - Rachel resting up for her London to Brighton bike ride the next day - in Kempsters the day before, twisted Ady's arm into driving, and we were on our way! Headed through torrential rain on the M4 to London, parking up at Ealing and tubing over to Finsbury Park, laughing at the floods on the Seven Sisters Road and the river coming out of the main entrance to the Festival site. Good thing we were both (wet) suited and booted!

Got in, programmed up, and got our bearings in time for the start of the days' proceedings at 12. Headed for the bigger of the 2 tents, separated from the main arena by a road lined with trees. Big Tent compere Phill Jupitus introduced CLEM SNIDE, whose single "I Love The Unknown" has made a real impression on me, and who I wanted to check out. They were as laid back, laconic and wry as this song; the slow delivery of a Jonathan Richman allied to the quirky worldliness and trippy musicianship of Eels, with a hint of a string-section thrown in. A good start to the day, and a set during which I puzzled, just where do I know their additional 5th member from?

Took a quick wander into the main arena during RICHARD HAWLEY's set, which struck me, frankly, like Andy Williams. Then headed back to the Clem Snide sign-in at the signing tent to clear up the mystery! Sure enough, he was Pete Fitzpatrick, a Boston musician from the band Pee Wee Fist (hosts of gig 444!) and a friend of Ed Valauskas! Chatted to him and his Clem Snide colleagues about Boston rock, then hit the late-running Tiny Tent to avoid the rain and catch a set from TRISH SMITH, which was dull but inoffensive calypso jazz. Switched tents briefly to see COUSTEAU play some slow-burn late-night mood music; rather cinematic and a little like Tindersticks, but not really the thing for a rainy lunchtime! Then back to the Tiny Tent to see OWEN, a band who peddled some reasonably, vaguely uplifting and folky guitar pop, kind of like a junior leather-clad The Fat Lady Sings. Not earth-shattering, but not bad either.

We then had some dead time, so took a wander around the soggy arena and chilled while the late-running AFRO CELT SOUND SYSTEM did exactly what it said on the tin, mixing some heavy Burundi beats with occasional fiddly diddly stuff. Schizophrenic and a little confusing. Next up, though, were not the scheduled Gypsy Kings, but STARSAILOR, and when singer James Walsh opened his mouth to comment that his band were the youngest people on the site, the heavens totally opened! Umbrellas up and macs on, we nevertheless toughed it out, and despite his obvious nerves, Walsh delivered a pretty good set, influenced by the likes of The Verve but without the pompous arrogance, and with some gentler, Jeff Buckley-like touches. I enjoyed it much more than I expected, despite God going all Old Testament on us, giving these Catholic sinners trying to enjoy the evils of rock'n'roll a good drenching!

Oddly enough, AIMEE MANN then came onstage and the rain stopped! A Bostonian with whom I'm a little unfamiliar, Aimee trotted out a very pleasing set of ear candy pop with occasional bursts of world-weariness or cynicism, which certainly warmed the spirits. Very nice and pretty, but honestly I'm hard pushed to remember anything of the set beyond Aimee's cheekbones now!

Ady and I took the break for some tea then were Big Tent-bound, catching the end of JASON DOWN's strange mix of trad country and abrasive hip-hop. Not my cup of tea at all, but next up was! The tent was heaving for the early evening arrival of TEENAGE FANCLUB, whose presence on this bill (along with Evan Dando) swayed me into coming, and it appeared I wasn't the only one! However, from the opening chord, their summery shimmery guitar pop, sun-kissed melodies and splendidly soothing 3-part harmonies completely chased the rain away, and ensured that this set would be the highlight of the day for me. And the set was;

Near You, Start Again, Verisimilitude, Cabbage, Don't Look Back, Out Of Time, Your Love Is The Place Where I Come From, Neil Jung (dedicated to Main Stage headliner Neil Young!), About You, I Need Direction, I Don't Want Control Of You, (a marvellous) Sparky's Dream, (a totally unexpected but luscious) The Concept.

Everything was delivered with optimism and care, and Set Of The Day was duly won by these Scottish dreamers with Beach Boys in their ears and surf in their songwriting. Great stuff!

Ady popped off to the Main Arena to catch some of the Waterboys set, but I stayed put. Actually, that's not strictly true; I shoved about 10 rows nearer the front, so I was about 5 rows from the stage for the entrance of one of my musical icons, and the real reason why I was at Fleadh... A sparse stage set-up was intruded upon by none other than Marianne Faithful, the 60's ion duly introducing, "one of my greatest friends and a songwriting genius," EVAN DANDO. Evan, now accompanied by Chris Brokaw of Come playing shotgun for him, again delivered a supreme masterclass in holding an audience's attention, and regaled us with a superb acoustic set of his quirky, slightly countrified, slightly drug-ified Lemonhead pop gems. This set was;

The Outdoor Type, Turnpike Down, Down About It, (a brilliantly moody) It's A Shame About Ray, Hannah And Gabi, Hospital, The Great Big No (again featuring some spine-tingling audience call and response), Big Gay Heart, All My Life (an already familiar newie), Fall Down Dead, Into Your Arms, Confetti (almost jolly in Evan's delivery), My Drug Buddy, (a superb) Rudderless, Ride With Me

All were rendered by Evan's marvellously deep, rich baritone. The man may be a bit of a space cadet, but he writes great songs and he's got a superb voice.

Met Ady by the Big Tent afterwards, then joined the rapidly-diminishing queue in the signing tent and got the back of a postcard scribbled on by the main-men from my Set Of The Day hosts Teenage Fanclub. Also, had a few words with the fine chaps as well. Cool!

So, now t'was nearly time for the denouement, evinced by the Main Stage arrival of NEIL YOUNG AND CRAZY HORSE. I caught about 1/2 hour of Young's primal howl music, cranked up to full volume and punishing his battered fender like a medieval slave. I remember writing something similar about Dinosaur Jr's J Mascis once, and the twain are kindred spirits, similarities abounding between these two rootsy, rocky guitar heroes. I also enjoyed Young dedicating a snappy little number, "Piece Of Crap", to new US President, George W Bush. However, Ady and I were heading through the dusk and the mud and the very very drunk people (I don't recall seeing so many people staggering around looking so totally out of it at a festival before!), and also back in time! To the Tiny Tent, where headliners THE MEN THEY COULDN'T HANG had already started up their set. And started as they meant to go on as well, with a great sing-along "Ghosts Of Cable Street", from their classic 1986 album "How Green Is The Valley". Indeed, the vast majority of their set was from those swashbuckling days, when the Men, Red Wedge, slightly Irish influenced fiddly diddly roots rock with political overtones, and black leather waistcoats roamed the land. And a good time was had by all, from the sing-along sway of "Scarlet Ribbons", the immaculately delivered acapella "Barratt's Privateer" by Phil "Swill" Odgers, to the raucous dash through "Ironmasters" and an entirely appropriate "Born To Be Wild".

"We'll be back so long as there's a Fleadh," toasted Men vocalist Stefan Cush to the sweaty masses, also entirely appropriate. Because this festival is a celebration, mainly of Irish culture, heritage and rock'n'roll style, but also of life, all inclusive and all embracing.

So we survived, muddy but elated. My first Fleadh won't be my last, I hope; rain or shine, if it's on, I'll be back!

591 EVAN DANDO, YOU AM I, Pieces, Bristol University Anson Rooms, Tuesday 13 May 2003

As if I needed another reason to get excited about another gig from one of my all-time rock icons and the man I named my first-born son after, Mr. Evan Dando, I got two - firstly, the esteemed You Am I, a band we missed seeing recently due to our Sheila Divine marathon week in London, were announced as support; and secondly, a call to EdV revealed that Boston friend Josh Lattanzi was playing bass for Evan!

Thus galvanised, we zoomed to Bristol with friends, hitting the venue at 1/4 to 8. Got drinks before launching a Josh hunt; called out Chris Brokaw from backstage and got him to look back for him, but he wasn't there. However, we wandered into the hall to catch a bit of first support Pieces, and Josh was practically the first person we saw. Typical! Also typical was that Josh recognised my Damn Personals "Our Rock Will Fuck You" t-shirt before he recognised me! Nevertheless we got welcome hugs as we caught up with one of the sweetest guys in rock.

Introduced Josh to the crew in the bar, following Pieces cute and inoffensive yet inauspicious set (sounded a bit like Smudge in its' laid-back feel, and lauded by Josh) and chewed the cud before Josh went backstage, and we hit the hall for You Am I, back in the UK after 7 years.

The reason for You Am I's current UK ascendancy is down to the patronage of fellow Australians The Vines; however they can make it on their own thank you very much, and proved it tonight with a corkingly incendiary rock set. Shades of The Who and The Stooges in their raw power and rootsy rock feel, You Am I were great tonight and made us glad we finally got to see them. A largely unfamiliar set ('cause I'm a couple of albums behind with them right now), but embellished with their "biggest hit" ("number 74 in New Zealand," said vocalist Tim Rogers), the touching "Heavy Heart", and an incendiary run-through my favourite You Am I track, "Cathy's Clown". Great stuff.

Stayed near the front, stage right, for Evan, but were joined by a plethora of drunken numbskulls singing barmy army songs and spilling beer. Surely the wrong gig for that! Evan came on at 9.45 to a herald of freeform jazz, which he inexplicably wanted turning up! However, he eventually got down to playing a few acoustic numbers from the Lemonheads' classic "Shame About Ray" album and some new stuff, before being joined by Josh and the rest of the band for "Big Gay Heart" and "Great Big No" from "Come On Feel The Lemonheads". A selection of standout moments from the Lemonheads musical canon, augmented with toughened up numbers from his disappointing recent "Baby I'm Bored" CD - sounding way better "live" - followed, highlighting Evan's excellent rich voice and his penchant for easy, laid back guitar melody. The second-best bassist in Boston (sorry Josh, but EdV's number one) held the bass steady and sure, and Evan's performance exuded new-found confidence and total star quality. "Down About It", the set closer "Rudderless" and unexpected second encore "If I Could Talk I'd Tell You" were my highlights; although I'm a little concerned by Evan's continued over-reliance on an album now 11 years old, it's conversely still great to hear all that "Shame About Ray" material "live" again!

673 THE LEMONHEADS, Eugene Kelly, London Shepherd's Bush Empire, Thursday 15 September 2005

Continuing my recent early 90's US alt-rock revisitation (Pixies, Posies, Bob Mould playing Sugar songs), here's the Lemonheads doing all of "It's A Shame About Ray", their 1992 classic! Rachel and I headed down at 6-ish for this eagerly-awaited gig, part of ATP's "Don't Look Back" series of 90's artistes playing their best work, start to finish. Not an onerous task for Evan Dando's reformed Lemonheads, given that "It's A Shame About Ray" clocked in at a brisk 29 minutes!

Parked up in the Bush at 1/4 to 8 despite an above-average number of dickheads on the road, and met Tim and crew as he parked up. Took good spots in the venue (down the front, stage left) just before support Eugene Kelly came on at 8. I was happy that Kelly was playing, having missed his Dinosaur Jr. support earlier this year, and initially I enjoyed his laid-back, harmonious West Coast tinged pop, with shades of Teenage Fanclub, as you'd expect from this influential Scottish troubadour. An acoustic "Jesus Doesn't Want Me For A Sunbeam", covered by Nirvana back in the day, was a highlight, but the set was overlong and started to drag. Still, plenty to show there's life in the old dog yet, despite him looking like a grey-haired bank manager these days!

The place filled up rapidly as the witching hour approached, and we noticed Kev from Seafood making his way through the crowd, saying hi to him in the process. The lights dimmed at 9.30, and Evan Dando led the Lemonheads on; not the classic "Ray" line-up, but rather a new 3-piece incarnation with hired gunslingers Bill Stevenson on drums, and our Boston buddy Josh Lattanzi on bass, backing Dando up. Nevertheless, they were superb - by the pogo-stick bounce of the second number "Confetti" I was in the mosh, singing along to these familiar, easy melodies and spaced out lyrics. Dando's genius is most evident on "It's A Shame About Ray", its perfect marriage of post-grunge US college rock and country, producing naggingly familiar melodies to form the basis for his rich baritone. And Dando, slim, healthy looking and content, was on top form tonight and clearly enjoying himself. Meanwhile, I pogoed on in the mosh, catching Josh's eye midway through "My Drug Buddy", a languid "hey" of recognition illuminating his features.

"Ray" whipped by in double-quick time, climaxing in a solo "Frank Mills", from Evan, conducting the sing-along moshpit. A few other solo acoustic numbers - a brilliant "Outdoor Type" and a messy but welcome "Different Drum" - before the band rejoined for a romp through "Hospital" and a surprisingly good "If I Could Talk I'd Tell You". Then Bill and Josh cleared off and Evan announced he was doing one more number; "any requests?" My voice was the loudest as I called for "Stove", and Evan looked directly at me before clarifying. ""Stove"? Uh, okay..." Needless to say, it was superb, even stripped back from the full band oomph. A well-deserved encore later, a strident, vibrant and punchy "Down About It" called an end to proceedings, after a brilliant hour in the company of a true superstar and his henchmen.

Hung out afterwards with Kevin Seafood, then tried to get a message backstage to Josh, but in vain, as we eventually tired and headed off, home for 1 after a superb night!

714 THE LEMONHEADS, 747s, Bristol Academy, Saturday 21 October 2006

My 9th Lemonheads show (and 15th overall Dando sighting, counting his solo forays), once again in the company of one of my rock icons, a sprawling languid genius seemingly rediscovering his appetite for music, following encouragement from his new wife. New self-titled album was evidence of this; the upbeat punchy nature nevertheless harked back to the easy melody of his halcyon early 90s. A return to form - would the live show be the same?

Our carfull hit the road at 6.15 for this early Saturday nighter, held up only by some dickhead driver arguing his right-of-way outside the Academy itself! Indications from the website were that this tour had been sparsely attended thus far, and this seemed the case early on, while very poor support the 747s were peddling their mockney meets The Coral pop. Quirky doesn't mean sounding like Chas'n'Dave, or like shite fairground barrel organs, boys!

However the place was packed by the time The Lemonheads strolled nonchalantly onstage at 9, by which time we'd secured a good viewing spot at the top of the steps, stage left. Evan had again turned the personnel revolving doors, and this "Lemonheads" touring configuration consisted of 2 members of former Dando solo support The Pieces. So no Josh Lattanzi - boo! Initially, it was a slow one - a thin sound hampered opener "Down About It", and it took until 3rd number "Confetti" for the audience to respond with a jumpabout mosh. Thereafter, we got a typical Dando performance - often skirting with utter genius, occasionally playing the slacker card a little too often (a few too many droney and bum notes for my liking) but always watchable and entertaining. Often it seemed as if he was playing to an audience of one (himself), building the set up with a half-dozen "Shame About Ray" dancefloor faves, then slowing it down with a nevertheless stunning "Ride With Me". Perverse, but what do you expect? The backing was poor though - the Pieces boys were competent at best, and often shoddy, and Dando carried them throughout.

50 minutes of US college slacker rock, easy and cheesy, was followed by the band (thankfully?) taking a hike, for a solo Evan to hit a battered acoustic and run through such as "Being Around", "The Outdoor Type" and a stunning "Stove". Brilliant stuff and the best part of the set by some distance. We had the band back for a sloppy, off-kilter "Shame About Ray", then the highlight of the night - just Evan again for first encore "Frank Mills", tender and sing-along. That should have been it really, but the band came back for an unexpected punk run-through of oldie "Hate Your Friends" before "If I Could Talk I'd Tell You" rounded off a very variable and uneven, but occasionally brilliant 1 1/2 hour performance. So, return to form? Well, kind of, sort of... what you'd expect really, from this laid-back slacker genius Dando!

730 THE LEMONHEADS, The Icarus Line, Cardiff University Solus, 13 May 2007

From a young man on the way up, last time out, to someone who on tonight's evidence might just pass him on the way down. Despite evidence to the contrary, I'm always prepared to give Evan a lot of rope, but after tonight I come to bury Caesar, not praise him.

Rach passed on this one, so I got myself a ticket, trundling down in just over an hour and parking right outside the venue. Surveyed the odd scene before meeting Cardiff-domiciled Michelle and Ben. The gig venue, with a wide aspect, rounded table arrangements and waist-high barriers, reminded me of Swindon's old Brunel Rooms! Stayed in the bar after checking out a bit of the Icarus Line, who with their Doors-ish rhythm and sleaze, came across like a clumsy, less competent version of the Datsuns!

The "Lemonheads" took the stage at 9, Evan once again backed, as at the recent Bristol gig, by the 2 guys from the Pieces. Initially all seemed well; opener "Great Big No" solicited the usual singalong "whoa-oh"s from the 1/2 full crowd, and an early "My Drug Buddy" was touching and sweet. However, Evan started to complain about monitor feedback, and it took longer than he would have liked to, to resolve it. A couple of thrashy numbers, "Down About It" and "Pittsburgh", threatened to kick-start the show, but after a tuneful "Hannah And Gabi", the gig took a turn for the worse. Poor sound, careless thrashy playing from both Evan and his less than competent hired hands, and most unfavourably some off-key, atonal droning from this normally excellent (usually despite all odds!) vocalist.

A fine "Stove" briefly threatened to turn things around, but "Shame About Ray", usually the zenith of their easy, countrified post-grunge singalong pop, sounded disappointingly discordant and dirgelike. "Alison's Starting To Happen" featured some drunk punk invading the stage, then the disturbing sight of Evan pulling the bouncers off him so this guy could take the mic! Amazingly, Evan let him sing half of it, then said he didn't like, "to see someone beaten up for no reason." Evan, this dickhead INVADED THE STAGE! That's bloody reason enough, and I for one didn't pay to hear some random drunken punter!

That was it, the show was in a mire not even the usual acoustic interlude ("Different Drum" being the highlight - at least he got his shit together for that) and an excellent final "Rudderless" could save. I love the guy and I hate writing this, but I thought he'd recently rediscovered his appetite for playing. This was far from evident on tonight's show - this was Evan Dando really not caring, which we all agreed on as I left to hit the road, home before midnight. I hope to God that this was a one-off...