The Lemonheads, Olympia

WE'D just gotten a feel of the Lemonheads when Evan Dando suddenly decided to disappear into the Oasis entourage, and the last we heard from him, he was losing his voice and co-writing strange psychedelic tunes with Noel Gallagher. Last, Thursday night, Mr Dando's voice was, to the relief of many fans, present and correct, but anyone hoping for a rendition of Purple Parallelogram was sadly disappointed.

Dando's legendary looks, however, were still there for the girlies to ogle, but for most of the gig, his chiselled jaw was hidden by that lank, loveable mop of hair.

The Lemonheads are back in the running with a new album, Car Button Cloth, and although Evan has long since been left behind by his erstwhile buddies from Burnage, he still carries that rock star bearing like a badge of indie honour. Arriving onstage in a military greatcoat, Dando launches into It's All True, the opening track from the new album, following straight through with If I Could Talk I'd Tell You. Just in case some of us had forgotten The Lemonheads, Dando delved back into the startlingly familiar riff of It's A Shame About Ray, stopping off at new song Hospital before lacing the collective memory with My Drug Buddy. So far, it was like meeting an old friend after a long absence, then realising that you're no longer simpatico, and for the first half of the show, we found ourselves applauding without really feeling involved.

The awkward air was somewhat thawed by the country atmosphere of Outdoor Type and Close Down The Honky Tonks, but most of us wanted to see if Dando had emerged from his spell in the Oasis desert with his punk sensibilities intact. The encore was a jolt to the senses, a technoid wig-out during which Dando swopped sticks with drummer Murph then tore into a twisted Hendrix-like feedback fest. Then came something completely different, Dando doing a solo version of A Different Drum before essaying an extended cover of a Gram-Parsons tune. Guitarist John Strohm and bassist Kenny Lyon returned to the stage for a final, slow-smoking version of Style, Dando revelling in the double-negatives, and hiding his light beneath a thick smokey bushel.