February 2012, 40 Watt, Athens, Ga.
I get it.
You were in your early 20s and you wrote some great songs in one sitting, so much so that the album which contained these songs made you somewhat famous and brought with it several ardent fans. And you played those songs in that time and loved it, but you moved on, writing songs you may have liked even more. You wanted people to love these newer songs like the ones you wrote before, but it doesn’t happen that way. So it’s 20 years later and you have all these songs you want to play and you think to yourself “Fuck, do I really have to play ‘Allison’s Starting to Happen’?”
Well, yeah, you do.
So Evan Dando did what many other bands are doing — play the album the fans want to hear in order to play what he wants to play. In a half-full house at the 40 Watt, Dando raced through his 1992 classic It’s a Shame About Ray in a disinterested sprint, stopping ever briefly for a causal “thanks” before plowing into the next song at breakneck speed. It wasn’t bad per se — I wanted to hear the songs and he played them — but it came across as routine and ordinary, like he was trying to deliver the pizza in 30 minutes or less.
I was listening again to Ray at the time, and my feelings about it were confirmed live — it is one power-packed, catchy-ass album. From the kicking start to “Rockin’ Stroll” through just before the acoustic ballad that is “Frank Mills,” the album never lets up with its endless hooks. Highlights on this night included “Rudderless” and “My Drug Buddy,” the latter song probably never far from Dando’s mind. I don’t know him and so I can’t say if he’s normally a spacey dude, but if his mannerisms and eye focus were any indication, Evan was somewhere other than the 40 Watt that night.
To be fair, his track record in Georgia hasn’t been great, so perhaps my observations were more him concentrating with the effort to make it through the show without it falling apart. His last time at the 40 Watt he threw his guitar down 45 minutes in, ran across the stage and bolted out the front door. The demons at times must be hard to take.
But there was no such repeat on this night. After his gentle acoustic take of “Frank Mills” (accompanied by the crowd and one louder, enthusiastic woman in particular), Dando picked up the acoustic and soloed a series of tunes, including “Being Around,” “My Idea,” “Why Do You Do This To Yourself” and “Better ‘N You”. The acoustic set was not as robotic as the Ray set, though the audience did get a bit punchy and talkative near its end. These were the songs Dando sought to get to, but these too were done in swift motion. It ended abruptly, as he simply turned and walked off, leaving the crowd in a quiet stir. It took a minute or so before they decided they wanted him back, finding the cheers to elicit his return to the stage.
He did, with his band (Vess Ruhtenburg on bass and Devon Ashley on drums) in tow. His band mates were up to the night’s challenge, moving along with Dando while offering a tight rhythm backdrop. The trio rocked through “Great Big No” and “Mallo Cup” with some verve, ending the encore with “Break Me” before returning one last time for a fun and rollicking “Style”. “Don’t wanna get stoned, Don’t wanna get stoned, But I don’t wanna not get stoned,” Dando sang with certain winking nod, in what was a fitting song to end the night.
I’ve seen a few bands play their defining album start to finish in recent years, and while this was not the best of those outings, it wasn’t the worst. You have to leave it to Evan Dando to give the fans what they want while still being a bit pissy about it — but really, I wouldn’t want it any other way.
