buckingham green

So I was meeting Patrick at Revolver (formerly The Source, failed gay bar and best decrepit, empty, four-story watering hole in Taipei) for some drinks.  Things had changed, and when I got there he shouted over the din of popped collared, rugby bro yelling that there was some Queen cover band upstairs.  Meh, I thought.  We sat drinking for a while, until I caught a few strands through the floor.  “Man,” I yelled to him, “that’s balls trying to pull off Freddie Mercury.”

“No, not Queen,” he shouted back, “Ween.”


I raced upstairs, just in time for this:

The incongruity of a Ween cover band anywhere, much less Taipei, tickles me so much. They were a weird duo, Gene and Dean Ween, sometimes silly, sometimes serious, sometimes both.  They drank, did drugs, wrote prolifically and performed together for almost 30 years.  If any of that interests you, I recommend starting with The Mollusk.

B-Side: Birthday Boy

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