Naturally, the first song I can think of for a countdown of seven of many great Ween songs, is "Push Th' Little Daisies," the first song I ever heard by Ween, albeit an abridged version of it on Beavis and Butthead. Being an impressionable thirteen-year old, with a taste for weird and new, Ween seemed like the zeitgeist to all that was fun about music and how serious it didn't have to be. Beavis and Butthead hated it, but that's what made me more intrigued. Plus, I kinda liked Deaner's weird condom/teletubby hat. It only took less than two minutes for me to remember the band name: WEEN.
The next day, I went down to the "Rock N Roll Department Store" called the Underground and scanned their stock of Ween CDs. There were only two: the just-released Chocolate and Cheese, and God Ween Satan. Pure Guava, the album that the song is on, was out of stock, but I didn't know what album the song was on anyway. I picked up Chocolate and Cheese, marveling at the homemade Ween heavyweight belt that sat on the hips of a busty, tan model whose boobs jumped out at you. The backside of the CD was just that, the backside of the woman. The track list wasn't visible. Maybe "Push Th' Lil Daisies" was on that, I wondered, since the song wasn't listed on the back of God Ween Satan either. So I went for it.
I was a little bit bummed when I discovered "Push Th' Little Daisies" wasn't on Chocolate and Cheese, but I immediately warmed to that album's sonic diversity and unfettered humor. They told stories in their songs. Songs that didn't make any sense, or have any rhyme or reason, but which contained certain poetic sympathies that softened my agitated punk mindset. Finally a band I could sing a long to, and laugh with, who wasn't Weird Al. I've been huffing the sounds of Ween ever since. Day 2 of the week long countdown continues tomorrow.
Ween performs Wednesday, Jan. 26 at Crystal Ballroom. The show is sold-out.