There are those who might guffaw at equating Ween's Gene Ween with an American Ray Davies. But the laughter wouldn't bother the songwriter born Aaron Freeman, who's been working that angle since Ween's 1986 cassette debut, The Crucial Squeegee Lip. Though he is significantly less estranged with brother Deaner than Ray is from Dave, the 40-year old Freeman's under-appreciated catalogue is no less rich with unexpected and tender pathos. It's just buried deep in narrators that otherwise sound like drunk, funny-voiced spazzes. Nowhere are Freeman's perfect melodies more obvious than in his solo acoustic gigs, starring a kinder, gentler Gener. —Jesse Jarnow