Dope Lemon brings the sour to Portland, May 21st, 2025
Review by Bree Henry
From a land that produced Jet, The Vines, and Amyl and the Sniffers, Australia’s Dope Lemon are on tour to support their latest release, Golden Wolf. Before making the trek to Roseland Theatre I listened to songs, saw that their Seattle show was wild and sold out, and was extremely excited to pucker my lips with other Portlanders.
Expecting the show to begin at 9:15, the crowd grew louder and more anxious by 9:24. Relax, I thought, as the memory of waiting over two hours for Scott Weiland of Stone Temple Pilots to take the stage popped into my head. At 9:28, the lights finally went down, and the ostentatious light show began. It was incredibly well thought out — just not what I expected after watching animated dancing lemons on a screen before the band physically took the stage.
Around the time “Hey You” took hold of the sold-out Roseland Theater, I realized the band reminded me of another group that could use some oomph when it comes to the musical accompaniments surrounding the lyrics of songs— also Australian — Atlas Genius. “Hey You” tells a tale we know all too well… well, at least I do: you slide into your local honky-tonk, make eyes across the room at the human you’d like to add to your roster, take some shots, and head back to their place for a little rendezvous. But despite the familiarity of the scenario, the energy of the performance didn’t hold up. If I just so happened to meet my next heartbreak at Shanghai Tunnel only for him to put on “Hey You,” I’d leave him higher and dryer than the outback.
With that said, I don’t want to yuck anyone’s yum. Musically and lyrically, Dope Lemon isn’t bad, just not my particular vibe. I can’t relate to lyrics such as, “Burning behind me is eight and a half tons of heroin,” from the song “John Belushi” or the lyrics in “Electric Green Lambo” which mention honey and a wolf and maybe a chick with a drug problem?
The crowd? It looked like everyone shopped from the same catalog that sells white t-shirts for hundreds of dollars. That said, I have to admit 99% of them were incredibly happy to be there. Dancing, sometimes to the rhythm, in their skirts and overalls, hands in the air, especially when the sexy humans wearing mascot heads came on the stage — there was no denying that a good time was had. For the first time in my life, I can say I belonged to the 1%.
