The Lemonheads performing in Torquay feels like one of those quietly historic moments — the kind of booking you double‑check because surely they’ve never played here, let alone anywhere in Devon. Yet on a late‑September Sunday, the blue eyed poster boy Evan Dando finally rolled into town, bringing with him decades of cult‑favourite songwriting, a new record, and the unpredictable energy that has always made his shows part gamble, part gift.
But before Evan stepped into the spotlight, Torquay was treated to something special.
Bottlemoth opened the evening with a kind of understated confidence that only comes from a band who truly know their identity. Even as a three‑piece — two members absent, arrangements reworked on the fly — they filled The Arena with warmth, emotional weight, and a widescreen indie‑rock presence that belied their stripped‑back setup.
Drawing heavily from Even Us Ghosts, the set moved between tender introspection and soaring, cinematic surges. Tracks like Suki and Lilac added a nostalgic guitar shimmer, hinting at the richer palette they’re exploring in their newer material. The trio carried the room with tight chemistry and quiet command; nothing felt compromised, just distilled.
A chat at the merch table afterwards revealed the story behind the trio configuration — last‑minute absences, quick rearrangements, a “make it work” mentality. What’s striking is how naturally they pulled it off. If anything, tonight made the prospect of seeing Bottlemoth as a full five‑piece even more exciting. The trio showed the bones: the songwriting core, the emotional rawness. The full band promises the widescreen lift, the dynamic punch, the full bloom.
It’s rare to leave a support slot already planning the next time you’ll see them. Tonight, they earned it.
Evan Dando’s name carries decades of stories — some turbulent, some triumphant, all unmistakably his. And tonight, for the first time ever, he took over The Arena in Torquay.
With the new record Love Chant out in the world, you might expect it to dominate the setlist. Instead, only four tracks made the cut, leaving plenty of room for the staples — the songs that make a Lemonheads show feel like a Lemonheads show.
I’ve seen Evan many times over the past twenty years, and it’s always a roll of a dice as to which version of Evan is going to walk onto the stage! There was the haphazard solo show at Glasgow’s Oran Mor in 2007, and the much tighter Bristol O2 Academy gig more recently, where even the mid‑set acoustic interlude held together beautifully. Tonight? Tonight landed firmly on the right side of the coin.
Minimal banter, a slightly tweaked setlist (confirmed by his stepdaughter at the merch counter), and a few monitor issues that were quickly ironed out — once everything settled, Torquay got a genuinely solid presentation of The Lemonheads as most fans want to remember them.
Fresh from a stint in rehab, Evan looked better. More present. More in control. I did spot a couple of large handwritten lyric posters on the floor — a reminder that we all need a little assistance sometimes — but he kept on top of his role, delivering a set that felt grounded, nostalgic, and surprisingly tender.
The run of highlights across the set landed with a mix of nostalgia, surprise and genuine emotional weight. Stove came tearing out of the gate, full‑speed and razor‑tight, easily one of the night’s standout moments and the lone representative from their 1990 album Lovey. Hearing Different Drum again was a personal full‑circle moment — beautifully delivered, and all the more affecting in the same town where I once tried to emulate its chords from a battered pirated tape (they used to tell me that ‘home taping is killing music but I didn’t listen!).
Withered and Died (A Richard and Linda Thompson composition) arrived as a fragile acoustic treat, while The Outdoor Type held the room in absolute silence, Evan’s slightly off‑kilter vocal doodles somehow adding to its charm. Then came It’s a Shame About Ray — 35 years old and still devastating, its stripped‑back delivery amplifying every strained vocal and nuanced note, earning huge applause. Being Around brought a burst of looseness and fun, a perfect sing‑along that reminded everyone why these songs endure. And finally, as tradition dictates, Frank Mills closed the night a cappella, the whole venue joining in — simple, communal, and the ideal ending to a show that proved Evan still has the ability to hold a room in the palm of his hand.
Leaving the venue, I overheard a couple talking about how much they loved the acoustic section — Evan alone on stage, bass and drums taking a breather, the room holding its breath. They weren’t wrong. In those moments, he switched into another mode entirely: emotional, stripped back, soul bare, pin‑drop quiet.
For all the ups and downs, all the unpredictability, Evan Dando clearly still has it.
Torquay got something special tonight — a first, a rarity, and a reminder of why these songs still matter….a lot!
Bravo!
Formed in Boston back in 1986, The Lemonheads emerged from the American underground with a revolving‑door lineup that became part of their mythology — punk‑leaning beginnings, alt‑rock ascendance, and a catalogue that shaped a generation of indie songwriters. Across all those eras, all those tentacles and tangential branches, one constant remains: Evan Dando is the only original member still steering the ship. That continuity matters. It means every show, every tour, every new record is anchored by the same voice, the same melodic instinct, the same wry emotional clarity that defined the band from the start. Seeing him bring that legacy to Torquay for the first time added an extra charge to the night — a reminder that while the lineup may shift, the heart of The Lemonheads has always been Evan.