Hiatus is one of my least favorite words in popular music vernacular. Either you're quitting or you're not. You shouldn't need a thesaurus to describe your future ambitions, and you should spare your fans the frustration and invariable nerdery of scouring message boards for any informational nugget that may just possibly, if the stars align and the circumstances are ideal, hint at that hiatus' end. I used to be really good friends with a few Phishheads before Phish went on hiatus in 2003… used to be. I'll leave it at that.
So when Ween, probably my favorite band, decided to go on an indefinite hiatus at the end of last summer, I died a little inside. Not only did my ears ring in disbelief at hearing that stupid phrase coming from the lips of a band that I love dearly, and not only did I preemptively hate myself for wasting future hours of my life in online Ween forums full of people as pathetic and sad as myself, but I was stunned that one of the most energetic and committed touring bands that I have had the pleasure of seeing was going to retire to suberbia for an indefinite period. I thought of my phormer phriends and shuddered.
So when I saw that The Gene Ween Band — a quartet of guitarist Scott Metzger, drummer Joe Russo, Ween bassist Dave Dreiwitz and Ween founder/singer/songwriter/rhythm guitarist Gene Ween — would hit the road while Ween drummer virtuoso Claude Coleman and guitar virtuso/Gene's other half Dean Ween sat around taking drugs or whatever it is they do with their spare time, I was just happy that I could both pretend like I was at a Ween show and go somewhere that wasn't on the Internet.
I expected to have some beers, chuckle a few times, and do a lot of yelling, but I definitely didn't expect this fairly random assortment of musicians with little experience playing together to put together a highly entertaining or even particularly remarkable performance.
Ever defiant, Gene Ween and friends dug deep into the songwriters' prolific repertoire to produce a fantastic set of almost-exclusively Gene Ween Band material. The band gelled nicely, generally stepping aside to allow Gene to showcase his demented-carnie-grandmother aesthetic with a batch of well-written and weirdsounding songs that brought to mind some of Ween's peaks, but also proved that Gene doesn't need the whole band to be an icon.
Songs like "Kansas City Star," "Kite Flying Man" and "Mountains and Buffalo," all from The Gene Ween Band, have the sincere absurdity that makes Ween songs so smart and good, but they replace Coleman's dexterity and Dean Ween's legendary skills with a greater emphasis on Gene's gift as a vocal chameleon.
Whenever I've taken someone to his or her first Ween show, I've struggled to convince them that no, he isn't singing through a filter; he can actually make himself sound like a murderous circus clown on benzos, or, in the case of standout song "Thanks and Praises," where Russo did a fabulously accurate Claude Coleman impression, a Rastafarian zombie from the future.
The highlight of the evening, and a microcosm of the band's greater sound, was "Let's Get Divorced," in which Gene's tone matches Dreiwitz's tuba accompaniment when he coarsely brays, "Let's get divorced/ See you in court/ You're stupid and unworthy of my love." In melody and rhythm, the song evokes Ween A-lister "Poopship Destroyer," and vocally, it smacks of the earnest, un-ironic wit that only Ween has mastered. Even in the absence of the parent band's astounding instrumental skills, Gene proves nevertheless capable of making music that is no less excellent. It's smart music, funny music and ultimately music that does more than simply tide people over during stupid hiatuses.
--
Mikey Goralnik is a senior majoring in American studies. He can be reached at Michael.Goralnik@tufts.edu.
