The Lemonheads in Chicago, December 7, 2006

Come on feel the comeback

By Jeremy Ohmes
Published: December 9th, 2006 | 7:32pm

As endearingly messy as a junior-high make-out session, Evan Dando and his “re-formed” Lemonheads rolled through Chicago's Double Door on December 7, 2006, for the first time in a decade. Looking a little worse for wear and as blissfully spaced out as ever, Dando (and his interim rhythm section) ran slaphappy through a setlist that could’ve been divided into three acts: the new, the old, and the ugly.

Kickstarting the night with another patented catchy three-chord progression from his abundant collection, Dando showcased a few of the new songs from the Lemonheads’ recently released self-titled return to the musical radar. Surprisingly, these lively puffs of power-pop didn’t so much pick up where the band left off in 1996, but rivaled pretty much anything Dando’s done since Come On Feel. If these two-to-three minute pop nuggets had been released in the mid-‘90s instead of the confusing, filler-laden Car Button Cloth, the Lemonheads might have been the heirs to the alternative throne everyone expected them to be. Alas, can anyone say 10 years too late?

After the new songs skipped by like teenage crushes, Dando and co. dusted off the Lemonheads’ early-‘90s catalog and served up classic sing-along after sing-along with all the charming nonchalance and breezy jangle that fans remembered and loved. Songs like “It’s a Shame About Ray,” “Confetti,” “The Turnpike Down,” “It’s About Time,” and “My Drug Buddy” floated by on their laid-back melodies and timeless hooks, while “Down About It,” “Bit Part,” and “Alison’s Starting to Happen” got the way-less-than-capacity crowd bouncing and bobbing along like it was summer vacation in 1993 suburbia. By the time, Dando shouted, “Alison’s getting eccentric” (showing his age with the more modest lyrics) and “Alison’s growing a Mohawk,” the whole crowd had been transported back to a time when clothes were baggier, bands were buzzier, and the name Kennedy had nothing to do with politics.

Fifty minutes in, Dando tossed aside his stocking cap, let down his once-upon-a-time-50-most-beautiful-people locks, and swung into the power-pop masterpiece “Great Big No.” Unfortunately, around that time, the night started to go sour as self-indulgent guitar solos and sloppy transitions worked their way into the set. The normally kick-ass end of “Great Big No” was a guitar-wanking waste of time, while the fast, slow mash-up of “Style” and “Rick James Style” was mind-bogglingly bad.

But after a shot (before which he asked, “Is this GBH? Grievous Bodily Harm?”) and a few acoustic numbers, including the quirky mix-tape favorite “Being Around,” Dando rollicked into his anthem of lost direction, “Rudderless,” crooning “Ship without a rudder’s like a ship without a rudder’s like a ship without a rudder” and reminding everyone that even though he’s sailing the same club circuit he was 15 years ago, he’s still going at it at his own pace.