Ween: 12 Golden Country Greats (Deluxe Edition) Album Review

Ween released 12 Golden Country Greats in the summer of 1996 to a public primed for a prank. Aaron Freeman and Mickey Melchiondo, the duo known as Dean and Gene Ween, conditioned alt-rock audiences to expect gags and stunts with “Push th’ Little Daisies,” a perversely annoying novelty that became a staple on Beavis & Butt-Head. Chocolate and Cheese, their first album recorded in a professional studio, dispelled the notion they were one-hit wonders at the expense of positioning themselves as comedy rockers who prioritized punchlines over melody. In that light, a collection consisting of nothing but down-home music could be seen as the ultimate joke from a pair of indie-punk jesters. The thing is, Ween did take 12 Golden Country Greats seriously, something that this triple-disc deluxe edition, released in commemoration of the album's 30th anniversary, makes clear. They recruited their old friend Ben Vaughn, an ’80s roots-rock veteran who had recently collaborated with Rodney Crowell and helmed Arthur Alexander’s acclaimed farewell, Lonely Just Like Me, to produce the record. Vaughn knew exactly where to take the project: “I proposed I do to Ween what Chet Atkins did to Willie Nelson back in the day: only allow them to sing on the record, not play.” Freeman and Melchiondo were delighted by this notion, so they took money from a publishing advance and headed to the legendary studio Bradley’s Barn to record an album with whatever members of the Nashville A-Team would abide playing on a tune called “Piss Up a Rope.” Turns out a lot of the musicians were unfazed by dirty jokes. Hargus “Pig” Robbins, a blind pianist whose career stretched back to George Jones’ jumping “White Lightning” back in 1959, came into the session crowing, “So I hear we got some real country motherfuckers in here today,” demonstrating the kind of brazen attitude that suited Ween. Not that a ton of 12 Golden Country Greats wound up on the raucous side of the fence. “Piss Up a Rope” cranked up the twang and the vulgarity, its bawdiness matched by the boisterous Western Swing of “Mister Richard Smoker,” whose chicken-choking double-entendres are delivered with evident glee by Gene. The enthusiasm of the Nashville cats almost makes it easy to turn a blind eye to the juvenile homophobia of “Mister Richard Smoker,” especially since the rest of 12 Golden Country Greats pushes humor into the background. Most of the album proceeds at a lazy ramble, a blend of the comforting countrypolitian and the folky wanderlust of the progressive country of the late ’60s. “I’m Holding You” slowly sways along with the Jordanaires, who provide the same harmonic assist as they did on so many Elvis Presley records, and “You Were the Fool” hits the same resonant mellow chord as Glen Campbell. There are still enough jokes to make the album feel like quintessential Ween. Deaner laments “I guess I spent the dog food money” on “Help Me Scrape the Mucus Off My Brain,” while Gener’s roll call of musician introductions on “Powder Blue” culminates with a surprise shoutout to Muhammad Ali, followed by an unlicensed sample of his “Rumble in the Jungle” speech. That punchline is thwarted on this reissue, which, like all subsequent pressings of 12 Golden Country Greats since ’96, stops cold after Freeman's introduction.