Troubadour of a generation

(Morning Star, Friday 11 May 2007)

LIVE: The Lemonheads, Mandela Hall, Belfast

THE long-haired troubadour onstage this evening was the tabloid fodder of yesteryear. Pete Doherty with arrests for drug offences and shagging supermodels? Pah.

These are paltry tales of rock'n'roll excess compared to Lemonheads' frontman Evan Dando, whose various reported misdeeds are probably too libellous to reprint here.

The Lemonheads' first incarnation made sweet hippy poppy records with a nice line in wry lyrical self-deprecation and a suitably laid-back sound.

Then came Dando's 2003 solo effort Baby I'm Bored LP and, whaddya know? Sweet hippy pop turns out to be in his blood.

Now with a reformed Lemonheads - reformed because there are no original members in this line-up save for Dando himself - the tour of the century is dragging itself laconically around the country.

The crowd tonight are suitably matured. After all, most under-twenties wouldn't have the first notion about the band who set the radio waves alight in 1992 with their cover of Simon and Garfunkel's Mrs Robinson, or melted to the country-folk strains of Big Gay Heart in 1994.

But, as the audience buzzes with anticipation, it becomes clear that Dando, despite his wayward lifestyle and reserved attitude to public appearance, has built up a loyal following across the world.

With a nice mix of old and new music, it is worth noting that old standards such as Bit Part and Alison's Starting to Happen - off the 1992 classic album It's a Shame About Ray - stand shoulder to shoulder with the new material on this year's eponymously named comeback record. The only difference is that the level of voices singing along to It's a Shame About Ray dwarfs the few plaintive voices reciting new material such as Black Gown. It's a measure of fan dedication to the classics.

A half-time acoustic set lulls the crowd nicely, with solo work such as Shots is Fired sitting nicely beside The Outdoor Type from 1997, but there is a flurry of excitement when Dando mistakes a fan shouting: "Play Patience" for a heckler. "Play some songs? I just played one, man," says the voice of a generation before lunging into the crowd for swift justice. Talked over quietly, order resumes and the rest of the band return for a strong finale, following on from a fairly heavy Zep-style guitar freak-out.

Dando, it seems, cannot write a bad song. His knack for singalong verses and heart-wrenching tales of melancholy are the stuff of real pop legends and his onstage persona is so magnetic, so electrifying, that it seems almost criminal that there's ever a time when he isn't performing and weaving his sweet harmonious spell.

The Lemonheads are probably only really about Dando and maybe they only ever were, but there's a heart full of soul right ther and anyone would be honoured to watch the master at work.