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And so the end is near ... this will be my final Rock Action before I head off to an exciting new job out in the so-called real world.

Over the years of writing this column, I have often found that, curiously, what happens at the gigs I attend often seems to reflect what is happening in my own life. And this synchronicity has struck again as my final 6 Music assignments (as a staffer anyway) found me witnesing two artists also struggling with the reality of leaving their own, metaphorical Julie Cullens in what she would call 'the lurch' and going solo ...


James Dean Bradfield
ULU, London, 11 July

Seeing James without a lanky transvestite next to him talking cobblers is like ... like ... well, it's quite good actually. His solo direction essentially shows us what the Manic Street Preachers would have sounded like if it was his band and he'd got some mates from the boozer in rather than Nicky and Richey.

It's rock without the glam essentially - he even introduces himself as "James Dean Bradfield And The E Street Band" - but for a man who only wrote one Manics' lyric ever, the songwriting standard is surprisingly high. And his lyrics actually scan.

The nods to the day job are limited - he plays that one self-penned Manics' song, Ocean Spray, as well as an emotional This Is Yesterday and No Surface All Feeling - preferring to concentrate on his own blustery-but-enjoyable bar-band tunes.

There's a cover of Frank Sinatra's Summer Wind, as if to stress how un-edgy the whole affair is but while this may be a pair of carpet slippers compared to the Manics' stilettos, you'll be surprised at how comfy it feels.


The Lemonheads
Somerset House, London, 16 July

Solo stardom never sat comfortably with Evan Dando, however. This is no Lemonheads reformation - indeed, it's difficult to see how there could be such a thing as they've essentially been a solo project since Lovey - but if it means he plays to bigger crowds than he did for his criminally under-rated Baby I'm Bored solo record then I'm all in favour of it.

Perhaps in an attempt to channel the spirit of the grunge age, Dando now sports the same haircut - and even the same shirt - as he did around the time of It's A Shame About Ray. And while this version of the band are no great shakes musically, the sheer weight of brilliant tunes in his back catalogue carry us all through on a pleasant ripple of nostalgia.

The Great Big No, Confetti, Down About It, Hannah And Gabi, Into Your Arms, Hospital ... there are more great songs in his opening salvo than Johnny Borrell will ever write. And, as he rips through cover versions (The Misfits' Skulls, Neil Young's Powderfinger and, of course, Different Drum), classic originals (Big Gay Heart, My Drug Buddy, Stove and a singularly appropriate Outdoor Type) and a highly promising-sounding new track (No Backbone), we may not be any more enlightened as to why he's gone back to The Lemonheads 'brand' but we're still somehow happy that he has.

Maybe one day I shall return and we'll reform The Music Week dream team for a cash-in anniversary special. But until then, thank you for all your support and abusive e-mails and please join me on The Music Week on Sunday for one last farewell.

It's been emotional.