After the Lemonheads' Car Button Cloth, Evan Dando disbanded the group and took a long, long break, sobering up and marrying, slowly resurfacing after over five years of inactivity. First, he played some gigs, commemorated on the U.K.-only live album Live at the Brattle Theatre, before he finally released his first official solo album, Baby I'm Bored, in the spring of 2003, a full seven years after the last Lemonheads album. It's unmistakably a Dando album -- lots of low-key, three-chord songs, sang in his achingly lovely voice, and lasting not a second more than need be -- not much different than a Lemonheads album, apart from the lack of fast songs, loud electric guitars, and a general sense of maturity that permeates the album. So, there are no surprises, but that's a comfort, really, because Dando sounds comfortable and relaxed, lending Baby I'm Bored a cohesion unheard on his records since It's a Shame About Ray. While the schizophrenia, marked by unexpected noise detours, aren't missed, this cohesion does mean that he doesn't hit dazzling heights, so there isn't anything as immediately indelible as "If I Could Talk I'd Tell You" or even "The Outdoor Life." That said, there is something to be said for consistency. Even if it seems unassuming and underwhelming upon its first listen, Baby I'm Bored with each spin reveals the uniform strength of the songs and the sweet, understated charms of Dando as a performer, since he makes the covers -- several of which are written by Ben Lee -- sound of piece with his own work. Make no mistake, this is a laid-back affair and it's a grower, which may lead some listeners to dismiss it out of hand, but anybody that has longed for Dando to finally return to music will surely find much to enjoy here. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
Early in the '90s, Lemonhead leader Evan Dando wasn't just seen as an up and coming star -- he was touted as a genuine heartthrob, the grungy second coming of teen idols like Shaun Cassidy. Despite his dreamy, Boston surfer good looks and way with a melody, Dando wasn't easy to fit into such a simple, confining category. After all, this was a hardcore punker with a deep love for Gram Parsons, along with a fondness for '60s folk-pop singer/songwriters and a taste for serious intoxication (one of his best songs, "If I Could Talk I'd Tell You," was allegedly inspired by an incident where Dando had to respond to an interview with an NME reporter through writing, since he lost his voice by allegedly smoking too much crack the night before). These traits resulted in a run of three or four (depending on your count) charmingly erratic albums, filled with sweet singing, ramshackle playing, simple and lovely songwriting, great hooks, and unmitigated messes. Dando was able to hold onto his status as a sassy sweetheart for a little while, even sending Come on Feel the Lemonheads to gold status, but it soon came to a crashing halt, as he succumbed to his love of drugs and drink after releasing Car Button Cloth in 1996. He was silent for nearly five years before he snuck out Live at the Brattle Theatre/Griffith Sunset in late 2001 on a U.K.-only label. This isn't a full-fledged comeback -- that, allegedly, was planned for 2002 -- but it was a welcome reminder of why Dando was beloved by alt-rockers in the first place, even as it moves away from his trademark punk-pop toward his singer/songwriter foundation. The record is a modest one, since it finds him running through classic Lemonheads songs (plus one pretty good new one and a cover or two) live on stage. These are rather ragged, but they work, since Dando's voice is as frayed and honeyed as it was at the height of his popularity -- and it's all the more moving in this spare setting. It moves quickly, which is probably why it needed to be supplemented by a second disc consisting of covers (good, but a little too overworked in the studio), and it really isn't a substantial addition to his catalog. It's simply a nice, warm album, which is enough after a half-decade wait. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide