Gig played on 06/10/06

"Wa-hey! How you doin' man? I can't even remember the last time I saw you!" The two friends bumping into each other behind your correspondent cover themselves with a warm embrace before dissolving into a flurry of mutual backslapping, smiles and quaffed beer. Be assured: there's a lot of love in this room tonight but as old companions greet each with warmth and good cheer, the real outpouring of emotion is being saved for one man.

Evan Dando's reputation as grunge's own Pete Doherty desperately trying to decide, much like the characters from "Lost", whether to push the self-destruct button or not has eroded the fact that the man's a damn fine songwriter, capable of fusing romance and tunes like few others. And yet, as someone who's clearly his own worst enemy, the doubt remains that tonight's appearance will be another legendarily sloppy and lethargic performance.

How wrong. The Forum's emotional investment is repaid many times over with a set that's tightly drilled and executed with a military precision that carries not one ounce of flab. The chimes of "Ride With Me" are brightly clear like a cloudless midsummer day and Dando's rich and fully-rounded voice navigates octaves with an instinctive ease. As "The Great Big No" and "Down About It" are dispatched with verve and vigour, a sense of relief is palpable across the venue.

Though clearly happy to be playing with a band once more, Dando is equally commanding armed just with a guitar and a series of moments to die for. A gig of two halves divided into four quarters, the first of two acoustics sets is utterly beguiling; the brutal confessional of "Why Do You Do This To Yourself?" is beautifully sublime, while "Into Your Arms" induces a collective shudder as the hairs on the back of the neck rise in tandem with each other.

As delightful are the readings of "My Drug Buddy" and the scuffed, bubblegum pop of "It's A Shame About Ray", that tonight sounds like The Smiths as if they'd been weaned on the metallic aesthetic of Husker Du. However, none of this prepares us for the second acoustic section, where Mike Nesmith's "Different Drum" holds the world on a string, while the starkly evocative "Style" becomes compellingly horrific, Dando pleading with himself: "And I don't wanna kill a line."

Evan Dando's days as a contender may well be behind him, but on tonight's showing he's still got plenty to offer. Welcome back.

by Julian Marszalek