The same band that put out a country album and openly admits to making albums and going on tours when they need drug money. 
|
Let's Get Naked with Ween by Shayna Philipson The night before Ween's lead singer, Gene Ween, plans to rush to Vegas and marry his fiancee, he is surrounded by thirty women dancing onstage. They dance and grind, a few flash their chests, to Gene's throaty lyrics praising cunnilingus. It's an event that seems normal to Ween's five members and is a perfect end to the evening's performance. A smoke bomb goes off in the Warfield theater during a Ween concert, and the diligent performers keep playing. Colored lights search for the artists through the smoke, but only find an aesthetic state that enhances the drug trip half of the audience. Ween smiles and coughs behind the curtain of smoke but never takes a break in their two-and-half-hour performance. The smoke never dissipates, but rises to the ornate ceiling of the theater and hovers over the audience waiting for the perfect moment to throw on the overhead lights and usher everyone out of the packed house. When Ween performs they bring a suitcase packed with their favorite toys and gadgets. There's the 20 foot Ween symbol that hangs above the bands heads, the racks of colored and swirling lights, the smoke machine, and all of the music toys that Ween fidgets with at every opportunity. There's the Peter Frampton guitar/microphone machine that lets the guitarist/singer Dean Ween disguise his voice. There's a regular loud speaker that Gene uses when he gets tired of holding the microphone. It all adds to the eclectic Ween. The same band that put out a country album and openly admits to making albums and going on tours when they need drug money. Ween is allowed to do as they please and take advantage of that. They're one of the few bands that actually experiments with their sound instead of falling into a repetitive groove that produces the same mediocre crap that most bands make. Ween is un-definable. They're a little bit of rock, heavy metal, country, swing, salsa, tortillas, and a lot of cheese. A performance by Ween is an unending onslaught of entertainment. The band appeared with a blast of sound that reverberated against the walls making the audience think they were surrounded by annoying people who just wouldn't shut up. But then suddenly the band stops and enters into a minimalistic rendition of "The Golden Eel," where each tap against the chimes echoed up into the balcony. Hoots and ear-piercing screams were sounded like alarms at the recognition of a favorite song, or just at the recognition of the band getting back to the song after a thirty minute experimental jam. Ween's encore was only two songs but lasted for an extra hour. It started with a humorous choice of Prince's 1999. Surprisingly it sounded almost exactly like the original. Then the real finale started. It was a throaty song praising the virtues of the female genitalia. The thirty minute song snaked through slow grinding beats, blues sounding mid-tempo, and a high paced crescendo. Ween ushered women from the audience onto the stage to add an extra element to the celebration of femininity. By the end there were thirty women dancing and grinding on-stage, some baring chests, some forming special relationships with the band members and the other women. All jumped onto the stage, some with flare, and others with sheer surprise that they made it up there. They were quickly pushed back into the audience, or dragged off-stage by bouncers with the reflexes of mother cougars protecting their young. There were three chests flashed, and one penis that made it half way out of the cargo shorts before being pushed away. The members of Ween didn't seem to notice, or even glance at the surprise cameos. Ween has the reputation of extended solos, psychedelic tangents, and a high energy, sweat-pouring raw sound that pushes the performers and the audience into a state where standing still is impossible and not-smiling unheard of. To watch a Ween concert is to be sucked into a world where clothes are optional, drugs are necessary, and music is food. |
THIS IS
return to the
|
|
|
all text and graphical content copyright (c) 1998-2003 by the individual authors and creators.