"You know, it's absolutely connected to The Mollusk in that, it's what we're writing after The Mollusk. A lot of this stuff reminds me of things on The Mollusk"
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Sequels are a trap for bands like Ween: fans want the old mask back, but the whole point was that the mask could change shape. Gene Ween’s line sidesteps the trap with a shruggy kind of candor. He’s not promising “Mollusk 2.” He’s describing the psychic gravity of a record that became, for listeners, a weird little planet with its own weather.
The intent is almost logistical: yes, the new work is “connected” because it comes after The Mollusk, because you don’t get to unwrite your most mythologized album. But the subtext is more revealing. “Reminds me” is doing heavy lifting. It signals a return of textures, moods, and cartoon-surreal instincts rather than a deliberate concept revival. That’s classic Ween: the band’s identity is less a single style than a permission structure to chase any sound, then glue it together with a wink.
Context matters because The Mollusk has a special cultural afterlife - a cult-object LP that’s been canonized as both joke and masterpiece, cited as influence, memed into immortality, and treated like a gateway drug into Ween’s broader chaos. When Gene Ween frames new material in relation to it, he’s speaking to a fanbase trained to read tea leaves. He gives them just enough to latch onto while protecting the band’s freedom: continuity without nostalgia, lineage without obligation.
It’s also an artist’s admission that certain eras imprint on you. Even the most slippery musicians have home bases. The trick is pretending you just noticed you’re back there.
The intent is almost logistical: yes, the new work is “connected” because it comes after The Mollusk, because you don’t get to unwrite your most mythologized album. But the subtext is more revealing. “Reminds me” is doing heavy lifting. It signals a return of textures, moods, and cartoon-surreal instincts rather than a deliberate concept revival. That’s classic Ween: the band’s identity is less a single style than a permission structure to chase any sound, then glue it together with a wink.
Context matters because The Mollusk has a special cultural afterlife - a cult-object LP that’s been canonized as both joke and masterpiece, cited as influence, memed into immortality, and treated like a gateway drug into Ween’s broader chaos. When Gene Ween frames new material in relation to it, he’s speaking to a fanbase trained to read tea leaves. He gives them just enough to latch onto while protecting the band’s freedom: continuity without nostalgia, lineage without obligation.
It’s also an artist’s admission that certain eras imprint on you. Even the most slippery musicians have home bases. The trick is pretending you just noticed you’re back there.
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| Topic | Music |
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