Pitchfork

Traditionally, an odds-and-sods collection presents two types of songs; the unabashedly experimental and genre-hoppity and stale, ersatz versions of previously released tracks. So where does that leave the first volume of Ween's Shinola B-sides collection? Ween's proudly sophomoric LPs shred through more genres than tracks with little in the sense of a signature sound. Thus, Shinola, Vol. 1 matches up nicely with more modest full-lengths like 12 Golden Country Greats or Quebec.

While some of Shinola's tracks have circulated via the Internet and live bootlegs, none of them have appeared on a proper Ween release. Spanning from Pure Guava's crude four-track sound to White Pepper

's full band approach, and with little liner information divulged, Shinola's tracks are difficult to date, though occasionally the music spills the beans plenty. "Tastes Good on Th'Bun" sounds like a crusty precursor to Chocolate and Cheese's "Candi" as the vocals get strung through a series of bizarre effects like meat through the grinder. Fuck-funk rocker "Monique the Freak" follows Ween's tradition of immaculate Prince spoofs, tempering the protracted horniness of the band's nine-minute classic "L.M.L.Y.P." into a PG-13 encomium of sexual prowess.

Of course, most of the album consist of tracks too goofy even for a proper Ween release. With its campy jazz sax and fake audience, "Israel" sounds like a deleted scene from The Wedding Crashers, only with stranger, spoken word vocals. "Boys Club" rocks like a PBS jingle, good ole' fashioned jamboree strummin' and all, not to mention the perks: "You can talk about the future, you can talk of the past/ You can grab yourself a nice piece of ass/ Boys Club!" "Big Fat Fuck" stands as the cream of this toilet humor crop, touting a blubbery industrial bassline and robotic vox reminiscent of Brainiac (or is it the other way around?).

However, all joking aside, Ween's best tracks here are those earnestly emulating the band's dearest influences. In less than four minutes, "Gabrielle" pulls off smart 1970s AOR better than today's cadre of retro rejects. Likewise, the cerebral "Did You See Me?" continues the band's long-time love affair with Pink Floyd, showcasing Ween at their most ambitious and vulnerable.

Coming from a band that teeters at the edge of novelty, Shinola offers a surprising amount of flat out brilliant songwriting moments like these, particularly for a compilation of leftovers. This isn't a "fans-only" job either, as the assortment of these tracks encapsulate the band's catalog as accurately as a greatest hits album. Ultimately though, Shinola's potent track list further solidifies Ween's legendary productivity, proving them infinitely more complex than your average dick and fart joke.