Photos by Brooke Ortiz
Everything old is new again. It’s an adage we hear thrown around when discussing vintage clothing finds, mid-century modern décor, retro gaming consoles — hell, even flip phones are making a comeback. But when it comes to classic rock, nobody embodies this sentiment better than The Lemon Twigs.
As I shuffled into The Troubadour last Thursday night — a shimmering disco ball hanging from the rafters, framed portraits of icons like Cat Stevens and Billy Joel adorning its dark wood-paneled walls — I felt as though I’d been transported to a music lover’s basement in the 1970s. And that’s a very good thing.
The historical, intimate venue was overwhelmed by a sea of bodies, with concertgoers spilling up the stairs into the balconies and second-floor bar. It was a sold-out show, after all — one of five performances on The Lemon Twigs’ mini US tour promoting their 2024 album A Dream Is All We Know. The audience hummed with anticipation.
“Let’s go, Lemon Twigs!” someone shouted, drawing several cheers of agreement.
As if summoned by this enthusiastic call, the rock band descended upon the stage to thunderous applause. Its frontmen, brothers Brian and Michael D’Addario, sported heeled boots and shag haircuts à la The Ramones. Bassist/ keyboardist Danny Ayala and drummer Reza Matin — who join the D’Addario duo for their live performances — donned oh-so-stylish bell bottom jeans. Everything old is new again.
Hailing from the suburbs of Long Island, Brian and Michael grew up idolizing The Beatles, The Beach Boys, David Bowie, and countless other music legends of the 60s and 70s. The brothers’ shared adoration of classic rock, pop, and glam rock permeates their discography, throughout which they expertly emulate the hallmarks of these beloved genres. But while paying homage to the rock’n’roll greats, the D’Addarios are no copycats; they infuse their music with a fresh flair and relatable lyrics that feel distinct to The Lemon Twigs.
As someone from the D’Addarios’ generation who also adores oldies, I’ve been a fan of The Lemon Twigs for years. However, this was my first time attending one of their concerts, and it proved to be a joyously entertaining ride that exceeded my (already high) expectations.
From the moment they launched into their first song of the night — feel-good power-pop anthem “Golden Years” — The Lemon Twigs commanded the stage with the swaggering confidence of bona fide rockstars. Their electrifying, high-energy set was perfectly punctuated by impressive guitar showmanship (jumping in heeled boots is no easy feat) and comedic banter with the audience. I was especially delighted that they played “The One” — the lead single off their 2020 album Songs for the General Public, which first got me into the band.
As I jammed out to one snappy rock tune after another, I found myself struck by just how much the D’Addarios sounded like The Beach Boys. When they slowed things down and crooned their sweet ballad “In The Eyes Of The Girl,” the vocal resemblance — right down to the lush, Wall of Sound-esque harmonies — was truly uncanny. Given that the brothers inherited their music taste from their father Ronnie D’Addario — a songwriter and musician himself — I wouldn’t be surprised if Brian was named after Brian Wilson, a decision that now feels nothing short of prophetic. Before playing the dreamy love song, Michael quipped that it was AI-generated to sound exactly like the Beach Boys. The self-awareness? Off the charts. But no — AI could never whip up a tender ode to devotion like this, one that definitely would’ve been played at your parents’ high school dance.
In the eyes of the world I’m too far gone /
In the eyes of the world I’m done /
But the one that I care for says I make her heart soar /
In the eyes of the girl I’ve won
Perhaps the most heartwarming aspect of this concert was the remarkably wide age range of its attendees. There were elementary school-aged children wearing noise-reduction earmuffs (way to go!), accompanied by their parents — maybe this was their introduction to classic rock. Standing next to them, more seasoned folks who might’ve been old enough to watch The Who perform live. For these veterans, I’d venture that The Lemon Twigs represent a very welcome return to the genre. And as I witnessed the crowd singing — and shouting — along in (almost) perfect unison, I was reminded that great music truly knows no age.
After the show, stepping out of the Troubadour felt like being jolted back to the present after a trip to the late 1960s. So if you’re an old soul who lights up in the glow of nostalgia, give The Lemon Twigs a listen — they’re about as close to time travel as you can get.
