WEEN
Tuesday, October 7
MacEwan Hall
Ween are funny guys, there’s no getting around that fact, but guitarist Dean Ween is pissed at how it dogs the band. As such he is amped up to rant.
"I think most music journalists have us pegged as a comedy band or parody act," Dean starts in. "No matter how many records we make or how long we stick around, I don’t think that it will ever go away.
"If I was to read and believe the things that people say about us, I would never check us out. That article that is written about Ween every-day in every paper when we’re on tour – we come in town and I see it sitting there in the club: ‘Quirky rock duo takes their parodist whatever.... Twin bastard brothers of They Might Be Giants and Beavis and Butthead.’"
So goes the problem of being in a cult band that does not see the world through the eyes of the average square who adheres to the comedy-does-not-belong-in-music credo. The fact remains, however, that musicians with a sophisticated sense of humour often make superior music. Take for instance, artists like Frank Zappa, Randy Newman or Mark "Devo" Mothersbaugh. Though once stigmatized in the mainstream press for writing funny words and idiosyncratic music, they are now generally praised for their craftsmanship.
Deaner throws down on the subject. "I’ve had this discussion before, but everything that I really, really love has a sense of humour. Whether it’s the Beatles, who had a tremendous sense of humour that was not thinly veiled, or P-Funk. Even a guy like Prince, who comes (off) like this freaky artist, that dude is laughing all the time. He know’s exactly what he’s doing."
"He’s fuckin’ pissin’ himself, he’s laughin’ so hard," Dean-o-myte responds to the example of the Purple One’s famous name change, ostensibly done to get out of a record contract. It just goes to show, even when Deandrite makes a serious point, he conjures up a hysterical image of Prince writhing in a pool of his own urine.
"On the other hand, someone who doesn’t have a sense of humour – like Creed – that comes across, too, and it’s very unappealing.
"Our sense of humour is in the forefront. It’s not as subtle as those other bands I mentioned. We’re just doing what comes naturally to us. It’s not reliant on the humour, but it’s part of it."
Since their 1990 debut God Ween Satan, Dean, along with pseudo-brother Gene, have been releasing music imbued with a sense of absurdity, skilful musicianship, songwriting craftsmanship and a chameleon-like ability to ape any genre from western swing to Beatles-esque pop to metal and beyond. They accumulated a fanatical following usually only seen among the jam-band circuit, although jam banders have latched on to Ween for their musical prowess and three-hour performances. Perhaps the reason for such adoration is that Ween do as many drugs as their audience.
In fact, thematically, each of Ween’s seven albums have been tailored to be enjoyed under a specific substance for the best results. For instance, their sophomore disc, The Pod, featured a cover shot of a Leonard Cohen-like figure wearing a device used to huff Scotch Guard.
Ween’s latest offering, Quebec, is named for Deanomatic’s association with the eastern province. "I spend a lot of time in Quebec. The record to me was this rainy, winter, foggy, cold, romantic, depressing record. It’s my image of Quebec versus what the record sounded like."
It is suggested to Deanster that Quebec, with its moody, Pink Floyd-ish textures and psychedelic cover has a distinctly peyote feel.
"Not every one of our records is custom-tailored to a specific drug. I wouldn’t want to..." Deanosaurus pauses briefly and chuckles, "I know that’s not true. That rumour already does go around because we already made fun of that, in a way, by saying the drug of choice for this record is painkillers and alcohol."
Incidently, the band was hired and subsequently fired by a typically square ad agency that wanted them to write jingles for Pizza Hut, but were weirded out by the end product. Is the hypocritical, puritanical streak of North America’s political and economic elite keeping Ween from commercial acceptance because they make drug culture funny?
"We don’t strive for it. It’s not like a golden ring that’s been out of our grasp. The only thing I desire about mass commercial acceptance is the money. I have no interest in doing more than we already do. We can dictate the way we want to do things.
"I have friends in bands who have done really, really well and I don’t know after 20 years (if) Ween could survive something like that, all of a sudden – the extra bullshit part of the workload that would come along with it."
Making extra music videos and doing more press would only affect Ween – forcing them to participate in an aspect of the music business they clearly have tried to avoid.
"There was a really limited time in the early ’90s when radio got to a cool place. It’s totally gone. Now, there are only 10 bands on the radio and they all sound the same, especially the nu-metal shit. Rock ’n’ roll is in a really bad place right now. For Ween to have a hit, we would have had to (have) accidentally done something that was consistent with what is on the radio.
"It boggles my mind how people are sheep. If they don’t know there’s anything other than Limp Bizkit, they have no willingness to go out and find it.... These become the influences for the kid who’s going to start a band. If that’s what they’re growing up on, we’re fucked. There’s no hope."
If one believes in cultural cycles, perhaps popular music has become an unimaginative, bloated, lazy carcass fattened by the media oligopolies so the younger generation in the underground has something to rebel against, like the Weens did when they were teens.
"Maybe music needs to reach its bottom before it can come back up," says the Deanimator before returning to pessimism. "It just doesn’t look good. Society is changing. I think we’re a society filled with pussies, in a way."
Hear. Hear. Deaner. They make the best fodder for the satire cannon. |
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