Subject: On the can with Gene Ween
From: J. Tayloe Emery
Portland, Ore. 9/25/97
I heard the toilet flush through the hotel wall and ascertained that
Gene Ween must be up and awake already. Through some outerworld luck of
the Boognish,
Gene was able to get a room at the Hilton Hotel in Portland right next
to our party. It was myself and the two lasses, Stephanie and Ali, who
were now waiting
for the maids to drag us out on our asses--but first, we waited for Gene
to shower, put some clothes on and come on over for our interview.
Paul, the band's manager, came by to say Gene would be right over and I
made the time to call down to Room 219 and talk to Ween's drummer-Claude
Coleman.
"Hello?"
"Claude, good morning. I didn't wake you did I?"
"Ack-Cough...yes."
"Well, sorry to hear that. You guys sounded great last night."
"Thanks."
"What was all that shit during L.M.L.Y.P? There were like forty girls up
there shaking their asses at you."
"Yeah, that was cool."
"You don't see that too often, I guess. Usually the security throws
people right off the stage."
"Yeah, we like that. We like the circus atmosphere up there."
"Cool."
Finally Gene came on over to our room and had a seat on one of the big
blue hotel chairs. The first thing you notice about Gene is his eyes.
They have big lids
and he looks right at you, and for a minute...he's not Gene Ween; he's a
cool, laid back and charismatic guy named Aaron Freeman.
"What d'ja get Dean for his birthday?" I ask.
"I haven't picked him up anything yet," Aaron answers. "I'm gonna wait
until we get to Japan."
"Oh, yeah that's right. When are you guys leaving for that?"
"Monday. We're pretty excited to spend three days there."
"It's only one show right?" asks Stephanie, wishing he'd ask her to come
along.
"Right, one show in Tokyo. Then we'll go through New Zealand and
Australia."
"Wow."
"Yeah, we've been there before. This will be a good trip I think."
"Is the label [Elektra] paying for the trip?" I ask.
"No...they don't give us much help outside the U.S. We're footing most
of the tab, but we just really wanted to go."
"I forgot to tell you," I tell him. "When we got in last night the phone
was flashing and the girl at the front desk told us that there was a
message that Sarah
called. I'm guessing that's for you?"
"Yeah, that's my girlfriend." Then slowly, "Weird, your getting the
message."
"We thought so too-kinda funny. I love that song, and you played it last
night but didn't finish it. I wanted to call her and tell her."
"Well, we kinda finished it."
I was thinking about the searing guitar solo that Dean left off at the
end of the song, but there were women throwing themselves all over
him...and well, I guess
that's more important.
"What did you think about all those people getting on stage last night?"
I ask him. At one point during the show there were at least thirty or
forty people on stage
with the band dancing to the super groovalistic PMRC fight song, "Let Me
Lick Your Pussy."
"We liked it. It's fun."
"You looked nervous, like you weren't sure if one of them was going to
push you off the stage."
"No...no, we used to have that all the time at our shows. It doesn't
happen to much anymore because most clubs are worried about insurance
and stuff."
"Yeah...it looked like Dean was having to fight off the chicks. How have
things changed now that Dean's married?"
"Not much really. He's always sort-of been married you know."
"Yeah...that's what I heard. You really have a great voice," I say. "It
gives a certain sweetness to the mayhem."
"Yeah, you really do," adds Ali sitting by the window.
"Thanks, thanks..." Aaron smiles, happy with the compliment but also
aware of his own abilities and shortcomings. "I've been sick a lot
recently, and its hard
to keep it going sometimes."
"Did you ever have any singing lessons? You have a nicely trained
voice."
"No, no I never had any voice lessons. I used to sing in chorus in high
school, but that was about it."
The phone rings and it's Paul downstairs with the rest of the guys and
they are pulling out. The green vans are packed for San Francisco.
"Thanks a lot for talking with us," I say and Ali, Stephanie and I
follow Gene into the elevator ready for our drive back up to Seattle.
"We should be going down there," says Stephanie. We watch the Ween vans
head south for Interstate 5 and momentarily weigh the options of going
to see them
play in San Francisco at The Warfield.
"They'd think we were even bigger losers than they do now," says Ali
nosing the car onto the freeway exit north. "We'd be passing them on the
highway and
they'd probably run us off the road--'Get away from us, you freaks!
Follow some other band!" She added for effect.
"What can I say?" I say to her from the backseat. "I'm a freak for
Ween."
jte
Subject: Ween's Portland Appearance
Date: Mon, 29 Sep 1997 08:02:36 -0700 (PDT)
From: Julianne Overall ( julicat@twistedpear.com )
Hey!
My first ever Ween concert...
Here's my notes on what I can remember on the Ween show in Portland, OR on
Thursday September 25, 1997 at LaLuna:
They hit the stage at around 10PM.
They started off playing Buckingham Green.
The place was packed.
Gene announced it was Deaner's birthday, although the crowd had already
been singing "Happy Birthday" to him in hopes of luring them onstage
earlier.
Gene encouraged all of the women in the audience to show their breasts in
honor of Dean's birthday... many obliged. It got wild right from the
start!
There was much crowd surfing and showing of breasts. Women surfed to the
stage and danced with the boys, Dean in particular... to a point of
excess. The rest of the crowd was getting annoyed at all of the groupies
on stage. At one point, there were more than 20 people from the crowd on
stage - during a particularly long and grooving version of Prince's
Psychedelic Kiss (I wanna lick your pussy). I doubt if Prince could do
that song any better himslef.
I was particularly amazed by Gene's Arabic wailing that preceeded I
Can't Put My Finger On It - one of my favorites.
The Mollusk was terrific, Golden Eel, She Wanted to Leave, Voodoo Lady
and pretty much everything they did. Baby Bitch, Spinal Meningitis,
I heard Piss Up A Rope for the first time and laughed alot while the crowd
yelled the lyrics along with the boys. During Blarney Stone, I was
briefly convnced I was in an Irish pub with the crowd singing right along
with them. Dean's gravelly confessions of hemmorhoids were a hilarious
addition to the lyrics.
During Buenas Tardas Amigo, Deaner surprised Gene by donning a sombrero.
Which is all I could see of him when he nearly passed out.
Claude came out for the encore, and had donned one of the bras thrown to
the stage. It was stuffed with oranges. He looked quite fetching!
Dean got pretty trashed... and was on the floor at one point.
They played until 1:15 AM I was amazed.
I wish I could remember more.... next time I'll have to write it as soon as
I get home. I *must* see Ween again.
-julianne
From: ryanh19@idt.net (Ryan Hirscht)
Subject: Ween Rocks PDX
Date: Fri, 26 Sep 1997
Before the show started, my room mate and I went to the MLKJr Denny's
where we were going to meet some guy that I had corresponded with over the
past year on alt.music.ween. Our waiter was this crazy Mexican named Arlen
who was a total crack-up: he'd call the coffee "High Octane" and
"Unleaded", he'd start singing "Don't Worry Be Happy" and "Too Legit (I)
Quit", make fun of another waiter by saying "This is James Taylor, he has
no feelings", and then when we got our check, he had it on a super long
piece of paper and said, "You've been here for THREE HOURS, so here's your
ticket..". The guy was fucking hilarious, but everyone who worked at
Denny's must have hated him. At one point he was waiting for some toast,
and the cook just threw the plate on the counter. I gave the guy almost a
$5 tip.
So, I walked into LaLuna at 8, when the doors opened (and to the dismay of
my naysaying friends who thought it'd be cool to get a ticket at the last
minute, IT SOLD OUT, PUNKS!!) and secured my position at the front and
center. The opening band had some 7"s set out on the back of the monitors,
so I snagged one of those. They (Sunset Valley, a local band) turned out
to be pretty ok, sort of a cross between the Ramones and Butthole Surfers;
high energy but full of sonic kineticism. They only played about 6 or 7
songs (the best of which was when the drummer came up and played guitar)
and got off for what everyone paid their lunch money for: The Brothers
Ween.
They got up there and the crowd started to wish Deaner a happy birthday
(he turned 27), and they launched into Buckingham Green.
A little bit of everything was played last night, many of the tracks off
their newest album The Mollusk (Ocean Man- with Gener on mandolin, The
Mollusk, The Blarney Stone, and a fucking brilliant Golden Eel), crowd
favorites off of Chocolate and Cheese (HIV Song, Freedom of '76, I Can't
Put My Finger On It, Baby Bitch, and the always epic Buenas Tardes Amigo),
a mix of oft-played and under-played songs from Pure Guava (Don't Get 2
Close (2 My Fantasy), The Stallion Part 3, Sarah, Pumpin' 4 The Man),
classics off The Pod (Dr. Rock, Pork Roll Egg and Cheese, Awesome Sound,
Frank, Sketches of Winkle) and the freaky ass shit off of GodWeenSatan:The
Oneness (Tick, You Fucked Up, and an extendo=jam of l.m.l.y.p, with two
dozen girls on the stage dancing with Papa Gener and Birthday Boy Deaner-
too bad Dean's married...). And fortunately, Piss Up A Rope was the only
12 Golden Country Greats track played. Not that the album's that bad, but
Ween needed to rock some shit, and they did in bucketfuls.
Dean was pretty plastered through the whole show, and it couldn't have
helped that they had sushi for dinner. Still, between the occasional
sloppy section of a solo, he played like a living rock god. And I guess
that Gene's been pretty sick through the last few shows, but you couldn't
tell from where I was standing- three feet away, mang! He sang his way
through everything, even the high octaves of Freedom of 76 to the Arabic
chanting he does as an intro to I Can't Put My Finger On It. Despite all
of these minor set backs, Ween put on a classic show. They were on the
stage for a little less than three hours, and they made sure everyone left
satisfied.
I also had the chance to hand Gene my unused ticket from their 94 show
(which was also at LaLuna), one of the last physical remnants of my
screwed-up high school career (my Dad wouldn't let me drive to Portland
because the pass was icy). He stepped up to the mikestand before they
started and I held it straight up to him. He took it from me, read the
front and said, "Thank you... I mean it." and set it down by Claude
Coleman's drum set. At that moment I fucking felt so good.
A+ to the power.
hirscht
> The guy I met at Denny's was none other than Rian Rutherford, aka Rodney
Anonymous. And I have to say, between his gas station brand cigarettes to
his bragging rights of having shook hands with Dean, Gene, and Claude
Coleman during the show, he's an OK guy.
hirscht again