There was a discernable difference in tone to The Lemonheads' output once Ben Deily left. Gone were the fuzzed-up, thrasy guitars and seething vocals displayed on earlier records - replaced by the often delicate and pop-drenched musings of Evan Dando. The results of which came to fruition on their breakthrough album It’s a Shame About Ray, an album that struck the perfect balance between its punk foundations and pop sensibilities. So, interestingly The Hotel Sessions finds us in the place after It’s a Shame About Ray and slightly before Come On Feel The Lemonheads, so ostensibly it’s the latter record in demo form. The premise is simple, in Dando’s own words “I've always wanted to make an Album for 53 dollars - Walkman 50, tape 3 bucks” and this is the result, an acoustic session captured in a hotel room in Australlia in December ‘92 or Feb ‘93.
The playful, sometimes acoustic, pop exertions that became more prominent on the previous record seem to have been Dando’s focal point during this period. Dando has always been a great lyricist, but never for any particularly grand thematic points that run through his work, but he has been a master of the turn of phrase; a quick, razor-sharp sentence filled with humour and often bitterness. He good-humouredly sang on ‘Rudderless’, “Slipped my mind that I could use my brain” and he continues to execute these brief moments of wonder on these songs, as he sings on the opening 'Big Gay Heart', “Why don’t you look after yourself and not down on me” or the plain silly, but somehow perfectly fitting “Patience is like bread I say, I ran out of that yesterday” on ‘It’s About Time’.
As you would imagine, the sessions consist almost entirely of the songs from the upcoming album Come On Feel The Lemonheads, with the exception of a couple that must not have made the cut, and some that must have been written and therefore included at a later date. Some songs work perfectly for the environment and really bring to light the simple, often delicate beauties of Dando’s songs and his smooth, endlessly adolescent vocals. ‘Great Big No’ and ‘Being Around’ really require very little accompaniment and really flourish in their rudimentary form, likewise the version of ‘Into Your Arms’ is perfect, even if it only clocks in at 1.37. Dando himself states “The ‘Into Your Arms’ I did here is better than the one on the album," and he may well be right. There is a little bit of banter, primarily focused on introducing the songs or offering insight into how they will fit onto the record. The riff-heavy ‘Style’, by his own admission, “is not done justice with the acoustic guitar” – again, he's right.
Surprisingly, for something recorded on a Walkman, the quality is pretty good. There is the little hiss of tape crackle and ambience provided by it’s primitive form, but it never eclipses the music and if anything, adds a grainy and endearing sense of place, time and atmosphere.