Evan Dando was one of my first crushes. The long-haired, lackadaisical bad boy/Lemonheads front man seemed shrouded in mystery, gazing at me intensely from the pages of Teen Bop. His whole life was immeasurably cool: hanging with Oasis and Courtney Love, appearing on MTV, smoking crack—Dando was a rock star back when rock stars still existed. And if his performance last night at Johnny Brenda’s was any indication, he still is. The singer’s studied blend of detached melancholy and deep emotional turmoil shone through, as he plowed his way through a stirring set of old material and new favorites.
Brooklyn spazzcore trio Appomattox kicked things off, sweating and heaving through a set of volatile, angst-y anthems, including a tribute to their favorite beverage, Sparx. Think real self-aware, disjointed stuff that still totally rocks. Awesome!
Next up were South Jersey popsters It’s a King Thing, whose rollicking blend of 3-guitar power-pop, cheery harmonies, and 90-second pop vignettes had concert-goers completely enthralled. Between songs, the band regaled the audience with silly antics, such as a Pringles can filled with springing snakes, and asked crowd members to try and stump singer/guitarist Brian Mietz by asking him to define “difficult” words.
“It means very biquous,” decided Mietz, when presented with the toughie “ubiquous.” “Final answer.”
The Lemonheads took the stage around 11, and the crowd gathered ‘round eagerly, waiting with bated breath for the moody rock star. When Dando finally appeared – band in tow—they surged forward again, cheering and clapping as Dando strummed his guitar disaffectedly, opening with mid-‘90s favorite “Down about it.”
The band’s hour-long set ricocheted between old and new material, with a heavy focus on 1992’s It’s a Shame About Ray (the best Lemonheads album, in my opinion) and the recently-released Varshons, a cover album featuring tracks by Gram Parsons, G. G. Allin, the Green Fuz and more. Dando himself was a model of cool aloofness, barely looking at the audience, remaining silent between tracks (I don’t think he spoke an entire word all night!) and closing his eyes and gazing off into the distance with just a hint of sadness.
Towards the middle of the set, the rest of the band left the stage, leaving Dando to perform solo. He kicked off with an intimate and moving version of “Outdoor type”—the crowd crooning along passionately—then kept intensity levels high with “Tenderfoot,” off 1996’s Car Button Cloth. He ended his mini-set with “Being around”, the quirky, upbeat pop ditty that questions “If I were a booger, would you blow your nose?/ Where would you keep it?/ Would you eat it?”
For his encore, Dando performed solo again, winding down with poignant versions of “Hannah & Gabi,” “Frying Pan,” and “Frank Mills.” He closed with a cover of the Misfits’ “Skulls,” and walked off stage without saying a word, barely smiling at the thunderous applause. The crowd, still reeling from the performance, remained motionless for nearly 5 minutes, and when they finally broke apart, the venue was buzzing—Dando just has that effect on people!
