Prior to the release of its eighth studio album,
Ween claimed that
Quebec represented a return to the "browner side" of the band, an assertion that surely warmed the hearts of longtime followers. If you're not sure what the "browner side" is, it's their predilection for weirdness, both creepy and cheerful, that has largely been absent since expert studio-craft entered the picture with
Chocolate & Cheese -- a record that had its share of strangeness ("Spinal Meningitis [Got Me Down]" is as unsettling as pop music gets, no matter how darkly funny it is), but surely exhibited their musicality.
Deaner and
Gener are many things but liars they are not, and
Quebec is indeed the strangest album
Ween has made since
Chocolate & Cheese, but the lessons of
12 Golden Country Greats,
The Mollusk, and
White Pepper have not been forgotten. This is
Pure Guava performed with the precision and cleanliness of
White Pepper -- perhaps a mixed blessing for some (those who long for the Scotchguard-fueled madness of
The Pod), yet it's a sheer delight for those who patiently sat through the longest period between
Ween albums yet. If
Quebec has any faults, it's that it is more a collection of songs than a unified record and, sometimes, those songs seem to be included just to get things weird again. Then again, that's kind of the
point of
Quebec -- it's a clearinghouse of ideas, jokes, experiments, and jams that gains its own momentum through its lack of cohesion, not the least because it feels like they're stretching their legs now that they're on an indie label again (this is their first record for Sanctuary after nearly a decade on Elektra).
And make no mistake, this is the least cohesive album they have ever made -- such sprawling affairs as
The Pod and
Pure Guava were unified by their homespun sonics and adolescent irreverence -- but it really doesn't matter, because they're now working at a level where it matters not if they are consistent, because they now have a worshipping audience who will listen to this as a song-by-song record, eventually coming to appreciate
Quebec for what it is: a hell of a fun, rewarding ride. Like on
White Pepper, the deepest moments arrive through vaguely psychedelic and proggy moments, but they're offset by light japes like "Hey There Fancy Pants," the warped "Happy Colored Marbles" (which is equal parts bubblegum and heavy prog), the sheer brilliant bizarreness of "So Many People in the Neighborhood" (boasting the welcome return of tape-manipulated voices), and the roaring
Motörhead salute "It's Gonna Be a Long Night" that opens the album with guns ablazing.
Quebec ends on the other side of the spectrum, with the apocalyptic dirge "If You Could Save Yourself, You'd Save Us All," and between those two extremes pretty much every other emotion is explored (even if tongue is firmly in cheek). There may be no grand scheme, no unifying theme, but after nearly a decade of pseudo-concept albums, that's fine because the format of
Quebec lets
Ween run wild and indulge in everything the band does best, whether it's freewheeling humor or songcraft, and the results are utterly wonderful. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide