Ween La Cucaracha


La Cucaracha review

:. Genre: Rock
:. Year: 2007
:. Country: USA
:. Label: Rounder / Umgd
:. Official Site: Ween
:. Download: La Cucaracha

"La cucaracha, la cucaracha…que no puede caminar". Well, it’s not really the case. The cucaracha, or cockroach, is a fascinating beast. Condemned as pests, these omnivorous outcasts leave chemical traces everywhere they go and are Public Enemy No. 1 for anyone who happens to live above a Chinese restaurant. As those who have tried to get rid of them will know, they are born survivors and are virtually unstoppable.

Hang on. Are we still discussing insects or have we drifted into a critique of Ween — the multi-talented "nearly-men" of the American music scene? I have always had a soft spot for the Stakhanovist rock band, but there are a few striking parallels between them and "La cucaracha". Like cockroaches, Ween are incredibly resilient — surviving 24 years of experimentation and endless touring. They are also opportunists — name a genre and Ween have probably sampled it, injecting their own humor and energy, everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Ween’s new album is a masterpiece that we would be stupid to forget behind our furniture. With a nod to disruptive influences, it is a real patchwork of styles as broad as Pop, Rock, Soul, Reggae, and Lo-Fi. The colorful "La Cucaracha" is vintage Ween, oscillating wildly between the festive big band "Fiesta" to the introspective and funky refined "Sweetheart in the Summer". The range this album offers is broad enough to delight music lovers from all over the place. And all in a constituency that doesn’t appear after one listening but after a few days of immersion. Get along with Ween, I promise you the experiment won’t disappoint.

Ween deserve to be famous. After a quarter of a century of hard graft, it would be cruel to begrudge them success. Ween have always been around, but the litmus test of their career will be widespread recognition. With this album they have taken a step closer and hearing one of their tracks whilst eating in a Chinese restaurant suddenly no longer seems ridiculous.

    Dirrty Frank


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