Review

Who: Ween When: Friday Where: Brooklyn Bowl at The Linq Grade: A last February, so shows like this have become destination events, a giddy release of pent-up demand from an evangelical fan base (How devoted is Ween’s following? After the show, Melchiondo’s handwritten set list was delivered to the merch booth and priced at $200, and those in line immediately began clamoring for it.)

A big part of the fun is that Ween has an impressive mastery of its nine studio albums (and one odds-and-ends collection) and can seemingly play any song from its deep discography at any time, so there’s no predictable structure to the group’s shows and anything can come next.

This freewheeling spirit informs pretty much everything the band does.

After the very first song, Melchiondo was already veering from the set list, calling audibles throughout the show.

The faces Melchiondo made as he played mirrored the songs he performed: rubbery, expressive, ridiculous, pained, cartoonish, his silly-putty features as malleable as the tunes in question.

The group straddles a lot of lines: parody and homage, adolescence and adulthood, pop and prog, the sentimental and the scatological.

And so on Friday, a gentle country western swing (“Powder Blue”) breezed by faux metal