Dear Jay Pullman,
You’re a neat guy and all, which is why I’m completely confused by your pick of Wiggle as your Screeching Weasel album of choice. You say, and I agree, that “You can tell a lot about a person by their favorite Screeching Weasel album.” Here’s how I might break it down:
The person who picks BoogadaBoogadaBoogada is most likely someone who still embraces their juvenile side and makes a lot of fart jokes. May have trouble in relationships, may also have trouble in any academic pursuits. However, it must be noted that this person is insanely fun to be around.
The person who picks My Brain Hurts is a no-nonsense pragmatist who occasionally dabbles in pseudo-intellectualism—while admitting to the “pseudo” part. Could possibly describe themselves as a “serial monogamist” since they’re too romantic to notice that love dies. Is balanced, but incidentally loves to drive fast.
The person who picks Wiggle is confused and misguided, who pushes on doors clearly marked “pull” and returns time and again to a restaurant that gives them food poisoning. Stuck between making clever threats about the real world and snide pop-culture jokes. An utter bore.
The person who picks Anthem for a New Tomorrow is idealistic, and is as interesting as one can be who follows the pack. May wear nice shoes and have an education, with luck in love and with snappy repartee. Does not care what others think, but most certainly conforms to a set of internal rules.
The person who picks anything after Anthem for a New Tomorrow or who picks the obscure self-titled debut is either completely retarded or is lying.
So: You picked Wiggle. However, I have hung out with you, and you do not seem confused, nor misguided, nor a bore. Is it a Chicago thing? I can’t tell you how excited I was when Wiggle finally came out, and how completely shattered me and my girl were when we brought it home from the record store. It’s such a lazy record, musically and thematically. I got rid of it a few years ago, and immediately felt much better.
Please explain. (And by the way, I’d pick My Brain Hurts.)