Ween Albums (13)
What The Critics Say
In the initial round of promotion for 2007's La Cucaracha, Ween's first album for Rounder and first in four years, Dean Ween called it a "party record, unlike our last record (Quebec) which was more of a Jonestown type party vibe," which is about as accurate a self-criticism as an artist has ever given. Quebec left a hazy, narcotic aftertaste that the giddy La Cucaracha blows away as the band reverts back to all their signatures: they never stay in one place too long, they spike most songs with their impish humor, and every track shows their knack for savvy, sly, odd arrangements. In that sense, the record could almost be seen as a back-to-basics album, as it's pitched somewhere between the sonics of Pure Guava and the sensibility of Chocolate and Cheese, but that's misleading, as it suggests that Ween are self-consciously striving to recapture past glories. Nothing could be further from the truth. La Cucaracha is the sound of Ween cutting loose, reveling in the lower budget and expectations an indie label brings, and playing music that simply sounds good. And, make no mistake, this is a party record -- quite literally so, as it's bookended with the spangly, mariachi rock & roll instrumental "Fiesta" and the decadently suave "Your Party," two songs that explicitly celebrate parties. The latter features a divine cameo from David Sanborn, whose alto saxophone gives this lounge party precisely the right sense of velvet flair, and whose very presence signals just how far Ween have come as musicians since the heyday of The Pod and Pure Guava. Back then, they were wildly imaginative young punks, creating their own world on a four-track, but they continued to expand their horizons with each successive album for Elektra in the '90s, growing as writers and musicians with each LP. With La Cucaracha, they return full circle, recording the album in a rented farmhouse in their hometown of New Hope, PA, and they seem re-energized by the smaller scale yet they don't abandon the frightening musical acumen they've garnered in the past 15 years. As such, the album is almost the best of both worlds: it has the devilish, off-kilter vibe of the earliest records but it's played with the skill of their latter-day albums, so this bounces from the elastic pop of "Blue Balloon" to the full-throated roar of "My Own Bare Hands," as punishing a rocker as they've ever cut. And while they never abandon genre-hopping -- "The Fruit Man" is this album's excursion into reggae, "Spirit Walker" and the ten-minute "Woman and Man" their prog rock numbers -- nothing feels like a deliberate parody. All the different musical strands feel fully absorbed, to the extent that when Gene Ween dips into Roger Miller nonsense on the chorus of the deliriously fun "Learnin' to Love," it doesn't seem like a send-up, it just feels like a natural move, an indication of how ferociously talented this duo is. At this point, 17 years after their debut, Ween may not surprise as often as they once did, but they've long ago transitioned away from relying on shock humor and have become one of the most consistently satisfying rock bands in America, and La Cucaracha captures them at a peak, which is surely reason enough to throw a party. After all, Ween have given you an ideal soundtrack for one with this album. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Like all great live bands, Ween has a diverse repertoire and changes set lists nearly every night, and also doesn't stick to the sound of the original recordings, choosing to rearrange, expand, and improvise. They're also reliable, turning in consistently strong live performances (and when they're bad, they're still a lot of fun), so they lend themselves well to live albums, and ever since 1999's live compilation Paintin' the Town Brown: Ween Live 1990-1998, there has been a steady stream of them, most released on their own indie label, Chocodog. Each of those has captured a special concert -- Live in Toronto captured them on their legendary country tour, Live at Stubb's was a rowdy, career-spanning marathon show, Live By Request had a self-explanatory title -- but for Live in Chicago, their second mass-market live CD and first live DVD (packaged as a two-fer, containing both discs), they simply presented a typical show from the supporting tour for 2003's Quebec. Recorded over two nights at the Vic Theatre in November 2003, the CD's track listing is heavy on fan favorites from Chocolate & Cheese and The Mollusk -- including the singles "Voodoo Lady" and "Ocean Man," but also such staples as "Roses Are Free," "Buckingham Green," "Spinal Meningitis Got Me Down," and "I'll Be Your Jonny on th' Spot" -- with only "Pork Roll Egg and Cheese" from the two early albums. There are also a fair number of White Pepper tunes and a healthy dose of Quebec. It's a very strong performance, edited together to make for a tight, fluid live album. As the DVD reveals, certain songs have been shifted around on the CD -- the openers "Buckingham Green" and "Spinal Meningitis" have been moved toward the end of the CD -- which makes for a better-paced album, yet the DVD has the momentum of a true concert, with the band warming up with some slower tunes before tearing into "Take Me Away" and kicking the concert into full gear. The extended length of the DVD -- 26 songs instead of 17 -- showcases the scope and skills of Ween better than the CD, since it has the space for more styles and sounds, including a stronger presence for GodWeenSatan and The Pod, plus an appropriately majestic cover of Led Zeppelin's "All of My Love" and a tremendous finale in "The Blarney Stone." While the extras are minimal -- the alternate angles on three songs aren't particularly interesting, but the animated video for "Transdermal Celebration" is -- the video is sharp and the sound, particularly the powerful 5.1 Surround Sound mix, is terrific. But the thing that counts is that this is a grandly entertaining performance -- perhaps not as transcendent as Live at Stubb's or Live in Toronto, but convincing evidence of Ween's live prowess. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Prior to the release of its eighth studio album, Ween claimed that Quebec represented a return to the "browner side" of the band, an assertion that surely warmed the hearts of longtime followers. If you're not sure what the "browner side" is, it's their predilection for weirdness, both creepy and cheerful, that has largely been absent since expert studio-craft entered the picture with Chocolate & Cheese -- a record that had its share of strangeness ("Spinal Meningitis [Got Me Down]" is as unsettling as pop music gets, no matter how darkly funny it is), but surely exhibited their musicality. Deaner and Gener are many things but liars they are not, and Quebec is indeed the strangest album Ween has made since Chocolate & Cheese, but the lessons of 12 Golden Country Greats, The Mollusk, and White Pepper have not been forgotten. This is Pure Guava performed with the precision and cleanliness of White Pepper -- perhaps a mixed blessing for some (those who long for the Scotchguard-fueled madness of The Pod), yet it's a sheer delight for those who patiently sat through the longest period between Ween albums yet. If Quebec has any faults, it's that it is more a collection of songs than a unified record and, sometimes, those songs seem to be included just to get things weird again. Then again, that's kind of the point of Quebec -- it's a clearinghouse of ideas, jokes, experiments, and jams that gains its own momentum through its lack of cohesion, not the least because it feels like they're stretching their legs now that they're on an indie label again (this is their first record for Sanctuary after nearly a decade on Elektra). And make no mistake, this is the least cohesive album they have ever made -- such sprawling affairs as The Pod and Pure Guava were unified by their homespun sonics and adolescent irreverence -- but it really doesn't matter, because they're now working at a level where it matters not if they are consistent, because they now have a worshipping audience who will listen to this as a song-by-song record, eventually coming to appreciate Quebec for what it is: a hell of a fun, rewarding ride. Like on White Pepper, the deepest moments arrive through vaguely psychedelic and proggy moments, but they're offset by light japes like "Hey There Fancy Pants," the warped "Happy Colored Marbles" (which is equal parts bubblegum and heavy prog), the sheer brilliant bizarreness of "So Many People in the Neighborhood" (boasting the welcome return of tape-manipulated voices), and the roaring Motörhead salute "It's Gonna Be a Long Night" that opens the album with guns ablazing. Quebec ends on the other side of the spectrum, with the apocalyptic dirge "If You Could Save Yourself, You'd Save Us All," and between those two extremes pretty much every other emotion is explored (even if tongue is firmly in cheek). There may be no grand scheme, no unifying theme, but after nearly a decade of pseudo-concept albums, that's fine because the format of Quebec lets Ween run wild and indulge in everything the band does best, whether it's freewheeling humor or songcraft, and the results are utterly wonderful. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
It perhaps goes without saying that an album recorded for the online radio show All Request Live is one for the fans -- those who know an artist's catalog well enough to pull out obscurities that never get played in concert. Still, Ween fans are both a devoted and perverse lot, so this All Request Live -- available via their site on the internet -- is filled with the odd choices even for the diehards, such as every segment of their ongoing multi-part epic "The Stallion," or the gnarled, nasty obscurity "Cover It with Gas and Set It on Fire," or their rejected Pizza Hut jingle "Where'd the Cheese Go?" here turned into a lengthy funk jam, reminiscent of nothing less than Prince's The Black Album. This is neither the hits, nor is it the weirdest tunes in their catalog: it's just the stuff the diehards love, performed with professional panache from the boys in Ween, who deliver surprises that are subtle, not shocking, such as re-creating the drive-in dialogue on "Pollo Asado." So, it's precisely the kind of record that diehards will love, but it's not quite as lovable as other limited-edition live Ween albums: despite the odd choices, it's not as monumental as the Live at Stubb's show, nor as maverick as Live with the Shit Creek Boys, it's merely a good, solid show from a band who, at this point, are rarely less than pretty terrific. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
'Live at Stubb's, 7/2000'
Release Date 1/1/2002
Tracks 31
Label Chocodog
See Album Tracklist and Review
'Live in Toronto Canada'
Release Date 1/1/2001
Tracks 16
Label Chocodog
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
The first in a projected series of Dick's Picks-styled archival live recordings on Ween's own Chocodog label, Live in Toronto Canada documents an October 23, 1996, date in support of the now-classic 12 Golden Country Greats. Backed by the Shit Creek Boys -- a group of veteran Nashville session men led by pianist Bobby Ogdin -- the tour in question was perhaps the apotheosis of the live Ween experience: Ogdin's countrified arrangements breathed new life into chestnuts like "Doctor Rock" and "What Deaner Was Talkin' About," and the Jack Daniels-fueled interplay between Deaner and Gener with the aging Nashville cats was pure magic. (As Deaner's liner notes point out, "The 8-piece band sounded like a 747 landing on your house.") Far more effective in capturing the life-altering genius of the Ween live show than the earlier Paintin' the Town Brown collection, the disc divides evenly between 12 Golden Country Greats Material (including "Japanese Cowboy" complete with "Chariots of Fire" coda and an epic set-closing "Fluffy") and fan favorites (i.e., "Push th' Little Daisies" and "Buenas Tardes Amigo"), culminating in a rendition of Billy Joel's "Piano Man" complete with the new chorus, "Sing us a song, you're the piano man/Put some coke on my dick tonight." F*ck yeah. ~ Jason Ankeny, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
White Pepper is Ween's most accessible album to date, lacking their trademark flights of fancy and exuberant bizarreness. By any other standard, White Pepper is a weird, wild ride. Let's face it -- no other band would even think of recording tracks as diverse as the Brit-pop-styled "Even If You Don't," the Jimmy Buffett parody "Bananas and Blow," a slamming hardcore punk song named after a Burt Reynolds flick ("Stroker Ace"), a tape-warped baroque instrumental called "Ice Castles," and the psych-prog-tinged soft-rock epic "Back to Basom," let alone sequencing all of them in a row. To neophytes, such whiplash shifts in mood may seem alienating (or intriguing, depending on their taste), but to any hardcore fan, it's not surprising and it might not even seem as funny as before. But, if you're listening to Ween just to chuckle, you're missing the point anyway, since they're not just consummate satirists -- check out the wonderful "Pandy Fackler," which mimics Steely Dan's lush jazz-pop, down to Gene's deadly Donald Fagen imitation -- they're consummate songwriters and musicians. Ween's music rewards multiple plays and White Pepper is ample proof. It may not be bracing, nor is it gonzo, yet it's a tight album filled with more pop gems than most bands can hope to achieve in their career. If that seems like hyperbole, especially for a duo that still indulges in silly dirty jokes, it's not. Yes, they may push the boundaries of good taste, but the music is always convincing, from the trippy "Exactly Where I'm At" and "Flutes of Chi" to the minor-key country stomper "Falling Out" and reflective ballad "She's Your Baby." If White Pepper isn't as crazy, funny, or sprawling as their previous albums, so be it -- it's more satisfying than most records. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
On the surface, The Mollusk is a return to the panoramic, multi-genre extravaganza of Chocolate and Cheese, but in its own way, it's as much of a concept album as 12 Golden Country Greats. It just isn't as explicit about its intentions. Nearly every song on The Mollusk has a nautical theme, buoyed by a heavy progressive rock influence. Several songs deviate from the theme -- the synthetic new wave pulse of "I'll Be Your Jonny on the Spot" and the frenzied pseudo-country of "Waving My Dick in the Wind" are neither seafaring nor prog -- but there's an unmistakable watery undertow to the record. Perhaps the loose concept is the reason why The Mollusk is the most concise album in Ween's canon, but it's not what makes the record so impressive. Like Chocolate and Cheese, The Mollusk could seem like a comedy record to outsiders, but the songwriting and performances are so remarkably accomplished that it is just as listenable after the shock of the humor has faded away. "The Mollusk," "Mutilated Lips," "The Golden Eel," and "Buckingham Green" are all startlingly accurate send-ups of prog-rock, and they are better written than many of their inspirations. Similarly, the vulgar shanty "The Blarney Stone," the faux-Richard Thompson tragedy "She Wanted to Leave," and the sunny, Caribbean-flavored "Ocean Man" are terrific songs offering evidence that Ween are improving as songwriters and musicians with each record. Ironically, this array of silly jokes and musical parody is a richer and more diverse listen than most of its alternative rock contemporaries. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
'12 Golden Country Greats'
Release Date 1/1/1996
Tracks 10
Label Elektra
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
The main problem with 12 Golden Country Greats (which only contains ten songs, by the way) is that it's Ween's first album to concentrate on a single music genre and such concentration lends the impression that they consider themselves above the genre. But that isn't entirely the case. Ween recorded 12 Golden Country Greats in Nashville with numerous legendary musicians, including the Jordanaires, Buddy Spicher, Charlie McCoy, Hargus "Pig" Robbins, and Russ Hicks. The presence of these musicians gives the music a very authentic feeling, even though the songs stick to '60s trends like country-pop, country-folk, and polished honky tonk. Some of Ween's songs fit this style perfectly, such as the rolling "You Were the Fool," "I'm Holding You," "Japanese Cowboy," "Fluffy," "Help Me Scrape the Mucus off My Brain," and "Pretty Girl." Even the vulgar honky tonk of "Piss up a Rope" works, turning into a truly delightful gem. The duo runs into trouble on the homophobic "Mister Richard Smoker," as well as with some of the vaguely elitist views that underpin the songs, such as on "I Don't Wanna Leave You on the Farm." Still, Ween's gift for songcraft and the talents of the Nashville musicians prevent the album from being just a joke. In fact, it's as satisfying as any of their records, and gutsier, too. After all, no country fan will want to hear this record and most of their fans are afraid of country music, and that's sort of an admirable move. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
'Chocolate and Cheese'
Release Date 9/27/1994
Tracks 16
Label Elektra
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
A brilliant fusion of pop and gonzo humor, 1994's Chocolate and Cheese is arguably Ween's finest moment. Building on Pure Guava's more focused approach, the album proved for once and all that along with their twisted sense of humor and wide musical vocabulary, Dean and Gene are also impressive songwriters. Over the course of Chocolate and Cheese, Ween explore virtually every permutation of pop, rock, soul, and funk, from the opening song "Take Me Away"'s rootsy rock to "Roses Are Free"'s homage to Prince's shiny Paisley Park era. On the dreamy, British psych-inspired "What Deaner Was Talking About," the Afro-Caribbean funk of "Voodoo Lady," and "Freedom of '76," their funny, sexy tribute to '70s Philly soul, Ween don't so much parody these styles as reinvent them. Indeed, "Drifter in the Dark"'s surprisingly traditional country and "Joppa Road"'s spot-on soft rock foreshadow 12 Golden Country Greats and White Pepper, respectively. Despite Chocolate and Cheese's polish and prowess, Ween prove they're still proudly politically incorrect with "Spinal Meningitis (Got Me Down)" and "Mister Would You Please Help My Pony?" two of the creepiest songs about childhood ever recorded. "The HIV Song" revels in its questionable taste and "Don't Shit Where You Eat"'s laid-back pop is one of the album's subtler jokes. Old-school Ween weirdness surfaces on "Candi" (the shouting in the background was recorded from the trunk of Dean Ween's car) and the crazed stomp of "I Can't Put My Finger on It." "Buenas Tardes Amigo," an epic, spaghetti Western-inspired tale of murder and revenge, and "Baby Bitch," a wry but stinging retort to an ex-girlfriend, show how good Ween are at taking silly things seriously and serious things lightly. That's exactly what makes Chocolate and Cheese such a fun, exciting album. ~ Heather Phares, All Music Guide
