Review of Baby I'm Bored by John Wenzel
From Sponic Zine 2003
In some ways, it’s surprising Evan Dando hasn't released a solo album before this. Riding high on the success of the Lemonheads’ early to mid-90s ubiquity, Dando could have split from the group before Come on Feel… was even released and righteously exploited his pop stardom. And judging by the harsh light the years have cast on the Lemonheads’ last couple albums, maybe it would have been better that way. Hell, even the late ‘90s would have been a seemingly better window of opportunity for Dando than 2003, where mention of him is likely to elicit more “Huhs?” than “Yeahs!”
In others ways, it’s not surprising we’re just now hearing this stoner-rock frontman’s first solo foray. Dando’s well-documented substance abuse (heroin, crack) and ensuing eccentricity cast him as a pathetic, downward-spiraling casualty of his own excesses. “What a waste of talent,” people said to themselves, but only as long as they could bring themselves to care. Maybe Dando needed a few years to dry out and get his shit together? According to his tongue-in-cheek press bio, he was running monitors for Enya.
Regardless, Lemonheads fans will be pleased to know that Baby I’m Bored is at least as good as any post-It’s a Shame About Ray Dando output, and a few tracks even approach the sublime acoustic rock of the aforementioned album. In a just world, these songs would be radio hits. They’re certainly as appealing and solid as anything currently clogging the airwaves, and with a lot more heart. Still, Dando ironically reinforces the album’s title with his barely-conscious vocal delivery. Maybe it’s a joke, I don’t know. This guy sounds bored as hell, and his voice is audibly coarser than on any Lemonheads recording I’ve ever heard.
Players and co-writers are as eclectic as the song styles. Members of Giant Sand/Calexico (including Howe Gelb), Spacehog, Ben Lee, and others contribute to the instrumentally cohesive texture. Songs are short and digestible, with bits of lo-fi noise sprinkled here and there, proving that Dando isn’t afraid to put deep scratches on smooth surfaces every now and then. Appealingly downtempo ballads with clever lyrics and killer vocal hooks sit alongside respectable, radio-ready pop tunes. Excellent, meaty production with layers of acoustic guitar, piano and clean drums recall the just-right mix of elements on It’s a Shame About Ray. The songs frequently seem autobiographical, but it's debatable how much.
Dando still possesses that effectively aching balance of resignation and hopelessness. “It Looks Like You” could have been right off It’s a Shame About Ray, as could have a few of the other tracks. “Why Do You Do This to Yourself?” is the most painfully honest song on the record and not surprisingly the shortest, juxtaposing lines like “as you can see” and “cause you can’t see.” Dando’s best asset is his voice, and while it’s been noticeably roughed-up over the years, it still does the trick. This is the ideal stoner-folk album to spend your Saturdays to, rain or shine.