Everclear Proves 'Sparkle and Fade' Still Cuts Deep At The Parker

By Joanie Cox Henry

Photo by Joanie Cox Henry

Thirty years ago, Sparkle and Fade captured the raw nerve of '90s disillusionment—all jangling power chords and Art Alexakis's unflinching confessions about addiction, abandonment, and the wreckage of broken homes. At The Parker in Fort Lauderdale Thursday night, Everclear delivered a cathartic performance performing its 1995 album in its entirety and sprinkling in other hits and surprises too.

The evening kicked off with solid sets from Local H and Sponge, both bands reminding the crowd why alt-rock's '90s heyday produced more than just one-hit wonders. But when Alexakis and company took the stage, the room shifted. Opening with "Electra Made Me Blind," they immediately established that this was going to be a show for the original Everclear fans. Alexakis may be the tortured soul at the microphone, but guitarist Davey French, bassist Freddy Herrera, and drummer Brian Nolan deserve credit for turning these confessional screeds into full-throttle rock anthems.

What's striking about Everclear in 2025 is how Alexakis's lived-in voice adds depth to material that was already emotionally bruising. "Heroin Girl" hit harder than it did three decades ago, each line about enabling and codependency landing with the weight of hard-earned wisdom.

The setlist smartly balanced deep cuts with the hits that slapped. "Father of Mine" remains devastating—a three-minute therapy session set to distortion pedals. The crowd sang every word, a collective exorcism of daddy issues. "Summerland," teased with a snippet of "Santa Monica," proved these guys understand dynamics, building from whisper to roar.

The curveball came mid-set: a surprisingly muscular run through Led Zeppelin's "Whole Lotta Love" (preceded by an "Highway to Hell" tease) that showcased the band's chops beyond their catalog.

Late-set gems like "Nehalem" and "Chemical Smile" reminded diehards why Sparkle and Fade was never just about the singles. These are songs that chronicled the Pacific Northwest's underbelly with the same unflinching eye that made Carver and Bukowski essential reading.

The encore delivered exactly what was needed: "So Much for the Afterglow," "I Will Buy You a New Life," and—with Sponge's Vinnie Dombroski joining—a triumphant "Santa Monica" that brought the room to its knees.

Alexakis has spent thirty years refusing to sand down the rough edges of his past, and watching him channel that same intensity now is infinitely inspiring. We're all a little older, a little wiser and hopefully a little more healed than the first time we got our hands on Everclear's CD in our teen years.  And I'd like to think we're more "Sparkle" now than "Fade."