Green Transparent Vinyl. Ween have never been accused of taking themselves too seriously. Music, on the other hand, is serious business indeed for the New Hope, Pennsylvania duo. As their career stretches into its second decade, they have a rabidly devoted fan base, no more ties to a major label, and a body of work that marks the most significant contribution to psychedelic music of the last ten years. In part this is because they don't hew to a limited definition of psychedelic, making music that is trippy without being hippy. Over nine albums they've explored a music store's worth of genres with accomplished song craft and instrumentation, which can include anything from a drum machine to Elvis Presley's backup singers. In Shinola Vol. 1, a collection of songs left off other albums, the brownest strains of Ween's oeuvre are on proud display. Brown is the code word Ween uses to describe music that's warbly, pitch-shifted, and plain strange. The stompy, squirty opener Tastes Good on the Bun falls into this camp, as does the astral travelogue The Rift. Elsewhere Ween's gleeful, Saturday morning cartoon side surfaces in Boys Club, begging the question of when exactly they'll join Danny Elfman and Mark Mothersbaugh in writing music for movies (their occasional gigs for Nickelodeon and their disastrous collaboration with Pizza Hut notwithstanding). Their reverence of Prince is felt in Monique the Freak, which contains what have to be the dumbest lyrics in the Ween canon. And Gabrielle could make it past even the most vigilant customs agent as a rare Thin Lizzy track. For a collection of odds-and-sods, Shinola Vol. 1 stands up remarkably well with other albums like The Mollusk and Quebec. Bring on Vol. 2. Hail Boognish. --Ryan Boudinot
