I hear it’s your birthday. Did you get anything good today?

Yeah. Somebody just sent me a Kareem Abdul-Jabbar card in the mail, like a baseball card, or trading card from, like, 1972. Then I got a Bobby Orr trading card from the same person. And somebody got me a basketball and a Chicago Bulls t-shirt.

So who’s in the live band now? My friend drove down to New York back in July to see you play with all the Nashville guys…

Yeah, all those guys are with us. How did your friend dig the show?

He said it was great. He actually taped it, just on a shitty handheld recorder, but it still sounded good. I like the part on “Japanese Cowboy” where you go into the Chariots of Fire theme. Did you originally write the song with that theme in mind?

Sort of… we knew when we wrote the song that it sort of sounded like a total rip-off of Chariots of Fire. So I figured we might as well just play Chariots of Fire!

Is it true you already have another album in the can?

Yeah. It's all done.

Does it have a title?

It sort of changes every day. It was called The Mollusk for a long time and might still be called The Mollusk.

Is it a double album like the earlier records?

I don't really know. I guess if it was on vinyl it would have to be. It’s an hour long.

So was the country record the result of you looking at what passes for country music these days and wanting to set things straight?

No, no. I mean, there was no real statement about our country album. We just sort of thought, you know, “we could do it, so we should do it.” When we went down to Nashville, we didn't know that it was going to be a full record, we just wanted to do a session, just because the opportunity wouldn't always be there to play with these same guys. So we did it, and then it just seemed like we shouldn't really shelve it, you know? And it seemed kind of weird to take just a song or two from it and put it on our new record.

The last album hinted at this direction, with songs like “Drifter in the Dark”...

Yeah, but it's not nearly the same principle, you know? I mean, yeah, we have some stuff that has that country flavour or whatever…

Have you tried sending the record to real country stations?

Me, personally? I don't do anything. We just recorded it. The record label probably did. I know it’s getting played a lot on, like, morning shows and shit like that. It's sort of like a novelty record, I think, to country people, you know what I mean? Like, they hear “Piss Up a Rope” and they think it's really funny. But I don't really know what's going on with it.

In the ’60s, Frank Zappa made a doo-wop record and actually sent it off to doo-wop stations, who started playing it not knowing it was Frank Zappa, and when they found out, they freaked.

I don't know, we’re not trying to pull a joke on or trick people by making this record—that would be pretty sad. We don't punish people with our music. We want them to like it!

So this is your first album without any reference to Boognish…

Is there really none on there?

Well, there’s no visual reference at least, unless it’s hidden in cover art…

That's kind of weird. It sort of happened that way.

Is this a sign you’re no longer following the faith?

No, of course, we do. It’s sort of the whole crux of our band.

What exactly does Boognish preach?

We really don't talk about it.

So what did Elektra think of the country-album idea?

They didn't know about the idea. We just handed it in.

Did this throw a wrench in their plans to make you the next Beck?

I don't know, we just made a record and handed it in. We’re with a different staff now—the people who signed us are all gone, and so the people way up high at Time-Warner brought in a new staff at Elektra, and they sort of inherited Ween. So our first album for this new staff was our country record. I don't really know what they make of us right now, you know?

They’ll probably ask you to go on tour with Son Volt.

Nah, I don't think so. They know what's going on with us, I guess. Oh man, I feel so bad…

Why?

Just from drinking last night, I feel terrible! I’m just laying on the floor here with my dog, I just can’t get up.

Well, they finally extended last call here to 2 a.m.

Oh yeah, well, that's what it is here.

It was 1 a.m. here for the longest time.

Yeah, I remember being in Ottawa on tour and I could not fucking believe that.

And starting January 1st, they're banning smoking in all clubs here. They’re going to have undercover smoke cops passing out tickets.

What a socialist concept that is! That ain’t ever gonna fly. Nah, that's a piece of shit of a law. You guys got to get your fucking smoking thing together anyway, man. Your cigarettes are so much money up there.

The only social revolt we've ever had here was when one of the cable companies covertly raised their fees.

I know that's all about. The cable down here is way too fucking much.

Did you realize that you were putting out the country album—which features a sample of Muhammad Ali [on “Powder Blue”]—the same week Ali was at the opening ceremonies for the Olympics?

Yeah, I did realize that.

That's good timing.

I’ve always been a big Ali fan, but I don't know if there's this renaissance of our awareness of how great Muhammad Ali is. It's not really a big secret to us!

Did you see footage of the ceremonies?

Yeah, a bunch of shit went down in the weeks before and after—like, 60 Minutes did a big episode on Ali and TNT announced that massive documentary of Ali, which is really good.

So the country record is probably your most coherent release—there’s nothing like “Blackjack” on it…

The new record is kind of all fucked up, actually! It’s the nature of how we do it—we can bust that [fucked-up] shit out anytime, but we’d kind of be imitating ourselves in a way. Like, Chocolate and Cheese, the nature of how we did it, it really didn't sound much different than Pure Guava when we wrote the songs. We recorded Chocolate and Cheese on the four-track at home. But then for the first time, we went back and we re-recorded everything in a studio. And after that, it sounded a little bit more together.

Well, I know you guys have always said lo-fi sucks…

It's not a matter of, like, “lo-fi sucks” or anything. When we did The Pod or Pure Guava, we weren't saying, like, “oh, we are the lo-fi band, this is our ethic.” It was what we were, but we weren't doing it to be intentionally lo-fi, you know what I mean? Lo-fi means it doesn't sound good, as opposed to hi-fi, which sounds good. But if we had put out Chocolate and Cheese with the original versions that we had recorded at home, it would’ve sounded more like a logical extension of Pure Guava, and you would have gotten more of your “Blackjack” or some shit, you know?

Do you see yourself as being weird? I know when I play your stuff for some people, they just don't get it at all…

No, not really… I mean, I don't know, dude.

How did the Foo Fighters crowd take to you guys?

It was good. A lot of our kids came out to see us despite the 18 bucks or whatever it was to come. It was great. It was very old-school for us in a way, because we did it with the two of us—we went out with the tape back and it was like being warped back into, like, ’89 or something before we had records out—or we only had the first album out or The Pod—and people started booing us and shit like that, but we knew we were kicking ass all over the place, you know? So in a way, it was cool because even though we have like five or six albums out, a lot of people still don't know who we are. So we can go out in front of, like, thousands of people and have people boo us and throw shit at us.

People seem to either really love you or hate you.

Yeah, exactly. But with us, it ain't unexplored territory, you know what I mean? It hasn't been so long now where I can't stand in front of people and get shit thrown at me and still know that we're beating their asses up and down that floor, you know what I mean? When everybody stops hating us, it'll be a bad sign, you know?

Wasn't your first gig with Fugazi or something like that?

It wasn't our first gig, but that was a long time ago

I imagine that didn't go over too well.

No. That was a legendary gig, actually. It was pretty classic. When did The Pod come out? Like, ’91 or something? So that was in, like, ’90 probably, or ’89. It was just after we had written a lot of the songs that were going to go on that album. That was the first show that we busted out “Captain Fantasy” and “Don't Sweat It” and “The Stallion” and “Frank” and all that shit. We were playing all that and nobody knew who we were anyway. They never really heard GodWeenSatan so it didn't matter that we were busting all that out. But yeah, they hated us. That was a classic moment, though.

Did Fugazi like you?

Yeah, actually, I know those guys pretty well.

Even though you’re, like, the furthest thing from a straight-edge band?

Ian knows what fucking time it is, you know what I mean? He's not going to not talk to us because we get fucked up. He’s a nice dude. The guy's been doing it forever. But yeah, that Fugazi show was definitely the pivotal landmark gig where, like, 1,200 people booed us. Of all the gigs I ever played where anyone threw shit at me—which is a lot—that was the most severe case, definitely, where nobody was digging us at all.

You don’t ever experience anything like that as a headliner, do you?

No, no. That's the thing: When you play for your own crowd, they've paid to see you. That's why we don't go out and open up for people. The Foo Fighters was the only time we ever did more than one gig with the same band twice.

So how much stuff do you have in the vaults at this point?

There's so much of it. It's impossible to quantify.

Have you thought about putting out a box set of that stuff?

Someday, I don't know. I definitely want to do it, but not right now. If we were to do that right now, it's sort of like admitting defeat. Like, anything after this is phase two, you know what I mean? I don't want to look back at this point—I figure we'll make, like, 50 more great albums before I stop doing it, and then we'll put it out.

Bob Pollard from Guided By Voices says he's got a whole suitcase full of shit, and he's just going to give it away in a contest.

Nah, he doesn’t mean that!

Are there are any genres of music you have yet to explore that you’re keen to conquer?

I don't know, dude… I like to listen to music, but we're not about, like, “oh, we can do any kind of music, we can write any kind of song, so next we're going to make our fucking metal record,” you know? I think people still don't really understand us. It’s not like what we're trying to do is so deep, where there’s a message or a statement. We're just kind of letting it ride, you know? But, it's weird: making a record that’s all one ethic, like a country record, it's really weird how people, after all this time, just completely miss the point entirely. Like they think it's “National Lampoon Does Country” or that it’s a big comedy record, like, “Ween Does Country.” And then everybody asks us, like, “Hey, I'd like to hear you guys do a rap record—wouldn't that be funny?” No! It wouldn't be funny. But we’re paying the price now for making a country record. A lot of people are, like, “What kind of crazy, zany record are you going to do now?”

Well, if I can make a suggestion, you should make a children’s record—my friend’s eight-year-old sister was singing along to “Pork Roll Egg & Cheese” when I played it for her.

We ultimately are a children's band, I think, for real little kids. Little kids have always dug our shit. I think it speaks to their primal/original-sin quality.

Speaking of rap: What are your thoughts on Tupac?

I got a lot of thoughts on Tupac. For one, I should say, I think the best shit out there that you can go buy from the last three or four years is the Dre and Snoop shit and all the Death Row shit, even Tha Dogg Pound record. And I never heard the Tupac record, to tell you the truth—I bought the California Love EP, but I didn't go buy his record. So it's kind of fucked up there's so much more to the picture than just the jams, with the whole East Coast/West Coast shit.

What's your conspiracy theory?

What's my theory? There is no conspiracy. I mean, it's pretty obvious that the dude was taken out for all the shit that they were talking back and forth. Whether it's going to go on or not, who knows. I don't think Dre is into it anymore.

I read this article that suggested his own record company took him out because he's worth more dead than a lot shit like that, and there was a whole list of suspects and possible motives…

Isn't it just supposed to be a B.I.G. and all those guys? Isn't that kind of obvious? Or is that too obvious? I understand exactly why nobody said anything—it's just like, why bother?

So how did you get on the Yoko Ono remix album?

They called us and just asked us to do it. [Ween bassist] Andrew [Weiss] is now the permanent bass player in her band now.

I thought it was Sean Lennon.

No, it’s Sean on guitar, Andrew on bass, Timo [Ellis] on drums, and Yoko on the mic. We did some gigs actually in the band with her—me playing guitar, Andrew on bass, and Aaron on the mic.

She’s deep into the indie-rock scene right now…

Well, from being around it, she's not really. I think it's the people at the record label. Sean was really into Ween—that's how we got hooked up on it. And the guy at Capitol who's in charge of Yoko is our old manager, so it was really easy to hook up. Sean said he wanted to get Ween, and he just called me up and we got the gig. But I think a lot of time the label just says, “there's this band The Jesus Lizard you should work with”—I don't think she cares too much.

It’s cool that after all the years of her getting slagged, she's being hailed as the queen of noise-rock now.

It makes sense—she's the original punk. I mean, she's way more fucking punk than, like, Rancid or something, you know what I mean? She's been making ill music and fucking with people's heads forever, long before people like us were.

Did you ever see the Live Peace in Toronto concert from 1969 where she’s just screaming over feedback?

No. But that’s cool—I can get with that.

So are you comfortable with becoming a guitar hero? I see you’re turning up in Guitar World magazine now.

I don't think I am, not even in my own mind. When people think of Ween, they’re not thinking of the guitar, even though all our shit is just guitar.

I noticed you reviewed the new Neil Young album [Broken Arrow] for them.

Yeah, they asked me to do some reviews but that was the only one I did. I got lazy. They sent me the Tom Petty record after that and I just spaced.

You should try to see Neil on this tour—he played here recently and it was great.

I heard he was at the Garden in New York City, which is a couple of hours from here, and heard it was incredible, I was playing a gig that night and I couldn't go.

So who’s on your Top 5 guitar gods list?

Well, the most important shit to me is probably Jimi Hendrix, first and foremost—that’s a given. That was what really fucked up my entire life when I was a kid. Jimmy Page. Prince. Any of the Funkadelic dudes—you know, Eddie Hazel, Michael Hampton, Blackbyrd [McKnight]. How many is that?

Do you put a lot of time into your guitar-playing?

Yeah, I do. It's my weapon of choice. It's always been kind of weird because when we first got going, it wasn't about me playing the guitar at all, or Aaron being the singer or anything like that. And the roles just sort of defined themselves now where he's definitely the singer and I'm definitely the guitar player. Even though he plays guitar and I sing, I've definitely become the guitar player. It's in my hands the whole time.

Did you do all the solos on the country record?

No, actually, there's not very much of my guitar on there. I play on a few songs. It's weird: There's some songs on there where I wrote the words and the music and I don't even play on them at all. I was just the advisor or something. I played a little bit on “Powder Blue” and “You Were the Fool” and “I Don't Want to Leave You on the Farm” and a couple others. But no, those [session players] were there to do all that. I don't want to hear my solos over that shit.

So, what's happening with [his robo-metal side project] Moistboyz?

Oh, our record is done. It’s about to come out. It’s a whole album—Moistboyz II. It's really good. Man, that record actually has the best guitar I ever did on it. It's a really intense guitar record. It's like the last record, but a little bit more severe. It’s almost like Back in Black or some shit. It's an extremely heavy record.

Who are you pissed off with on this one?

You know, I'm not even really an authority to speak on the Moistboyz, even though it's my group—me and Dickie. That group is so split. I mean, it's the two of us, and I do all the music, and he does all the words. So he's definitely the mouthpiece for the band. I can talk about the jams, but his writing is so intense and he's such an intense dude. If you want to interview the Moistboy, you should definitely talk to him, because he'll fucking talk your ear off, man.

So the breakup rumours were premature…

Yeah, that was just some cute idea of somebody's. No, our record is fucking massive. The Moistboyz are the best fucking band. Seriously, wait until you hear our record. Our record rocks so completely, it’s so over the top, it’s hilarious.

When's it coming out?

It's been done for, like, a year and a half. But I just got the artwork yesterday and it got mastered a few months ago. So all the parts are done. They're saying November.

So are you gonna go on tour?

Not unless somebody really steps up. I would be willing to go out if somebody stepped up for us, if Grand Royal gave us some dough or somebody called us directly and said, “we really want you to come play.” Then we would come and do it. I don't even care about the money, but somebody's got to fucking step up because Dickie lives in New Mexico in a fucking Adobe house in the middle of the desert, and it's really hard for us to get together. But if somebody got it happening for us, I would do it.