Screeching Weasel was hands-down one of the best punk bands of the ‘90s. Their music vividly captured the spirit of teenage angst and boredom. They had songs that were humorous as well as ones that were thought-provoking. They practically invented punk’s one-string guitar lead, thereby incorporating pop sensibilities at a time when that was far from customary. The band played by its own rules, but above all were great songwriters. As a result, they spawned a legion of devoted listeners. Fans weren’t content with one record; they wanted to hear them all. The infamous Screeching Weasel logo became a fixture on t-shirts in high school hallways, as singer Ben Weasel’s lyrics turned into anthems for the disenchanted youth of suburbia. Adding to the band’s mythical status was the fact that their popularity didn’t skyrocket until after they stopped playing shows. Tales of someone’s older brother allegedly seeing Screeching Weasel play a house party only helped to glorify their allure. The band’s cult-like following is yet another example of their importance to American punk rock. For many, Screeching Weasel provided not only a gateway to the realm of punk music, but also a soundtrack for surviving adolescence.

Much of the band’s history is linked to Berkeley, California-based Lookout! Records. Over the years the label released numerous Screeching Weasel classics, such as; My Brain Hurts, Wiggle and Anthem for a New Tomorrow. The band and label certainly made for a productive duo, though their relations were often tumultuous. It came as no surprise in 2003 when the partnership basically collapsed. “In 1997 Lookout! dropped their lawsuit against us,” Weasel said. “Part of the deal was that we then assumed ownership of our records. From that point on we licensed our records back to Lookout!. If anything like the lawsuit happened again we wanted to be able to have a way out. At least from my perspective, I like owning my own stuff. I know I’m not going to rip myself off. The term of the deal was up in 2003 and per our agreement I told them that we did not want to renew.” Additional legal battles ensued, records went out of print and royalty checks stopped coming in. “It was like we hurt their feelings so they took food off our table for two fuckin’ years. That’s terrific,” Weasel said. Despite lingering feelings of bitterness, Screeching Weasel’s situation appears a bit more promising as of late. The band’s catalog has finally been revived thanks to a new contract with Asian Man Records. “The ship is back on course and we’re all sleeping better at night,” Weasel added.

The union of Screeching Weasel and Asian Man Records mainly occurred due to a lack of interest from other legitimate record companies. When no one offered to do the reissues, Ben took it upon himself to approach Asian Man founder/owner Mike Park. According to Weasel, Park’s low-key demeanor and trustworthiness were major selling points. “We asked around and people said it was a good label and that Mike was a good guy. I asked him if he’d be interested, he was, and we took it. He’s a nice person and has been doing this a long time. To the extent that I’m willing to trust anybody in the record business anymore I more or less trust him,” Weasel said. With Asian Man’s backing, Ben and company undertook the arduous task of re-releasing their six most prominent records. Songs had to be re-mastered, new liner notes written and album artwork repackaged. This whole process had a deadline too. “To be perfectly honest it hasn’t been very enjoyable,” Weasel said. “It’s been more of an irritation than anything else because I’ve been really busy with other things. With the schedule of how they were coming out, one after another, from month to month, it hasn’t been a lot of fun. Although, I hadn’t listened to some of the stuff in a long time, some of it for very good reason as I discovered.” Ben never bothered to keep lyrics on file and therefore was forced to transcribe his words by listening to each and every song. This lengthy procedure allowed him a new perspective on the music that he composed years ago. “It was kind of interesting to have that passage of time and then look back at the songs. In some ways, here and there, I was on to something in terms of songwriting. I was able to look at patterns and how I developed my style. It was interesting to compare the old songs to songs that I’m writing now. I’d like to think that I’m bringing new stuff to the mix with the things I’ve done recently,” Weasel said.

If there is a single Screeching Weasel album that’s considered paramount it would have to be My Brian Hurts. This record witnessed the band ditch some of their hardcore roots in favor of more melodic tendencies. It had hits like “Veronica Hates Me”, “Cindy’s on Methadone” and “The Science of Myth”. It also became the starting point for what’s known as the classic Screeching Weasel sound. Being one of their earlier albums, this record in particular needed a lot of work before its reissue. “My Brain Hurts probably had the most problems. There were things with the mastering job that I thought could have been fixed. People often cite that record as an example of something that’s badly recorded, but I don’t necessarily agree with that. You’ve got to remember what Andy Ernst had to work with, which was the shittiest, cheapest, most low-budget equipment you can imagine. Our guitars sucked, our amps sucked and our drums sucked. We were playing through little practice amps. We didn’t have any money,” Weasel said. In spite of My Brain Hurts needing a substantial refurbishing, it’s still Ben’s favorite reissue. He explained, “It’s not my favorite record that I’ve done, but in terms of everything coming together and being better because of the reissue and re-mastering, I would say My Brain Hurts. I think with the new mastering there’s a dramatic difference. That record was made for $750. That obviously wouldn’t buy anything now, but back then it didn’t buy much more. To have a $750 record sound dramatically better is pretty impressive to me”.

A loud buzz was generated in the punk scene when Screeching Weasel first announced they would be re-releasing a majority of their back catalog with Asian Man Records. Yet an even greater frenzy was caused when talk surfaced regarding the band supposedly touring for the first time in well over a decade. The tour was supposed to coincide with the release of the reissues, though unfortunately the tour never happened. “The band has broken up several times and it’s sort of stutter-stepped from doing things and not doing things, so I decided four or five years ago that I was just not going to say that a tour will never happen again,” Weasel said. “I’m no more inclined to do it now than I was five years ago when we split up last. I wish it were as simple as just getting everybody together and making it happen. I’m sure people who are interested in the band and would like to see us play look at it and, understandably I think, can’t conceive of what the big fuckin’ deal is. All I can say is that there’s a lot of shit going on. When you’ve been in a band that long with people a lot of things can build up over time. It’s almost like some long-term marriages where the tiniest thing will set somebody off.” In addition to problematic band member relations, Ben faces personal issues with playing live as well. “I have never really been able to get over becoming seriously burned out on playing live music. I’ve made attempts. I went on tour with The Riverdales for three months in ’95 and I’ve played shows here and there since. I’ve made valiant efforts. The fact of the matter is that for the most part I don’t enjoy it. Once in a while I do, but there has to be money involved if I’m doing it,” he said. Financial question marks are what ultimately killed this recent tour possibility, yet Ben stresses he’d rather compose music than perform it in a live setting. His reasoning for such sentiments deals with the simple notion of living in the present being more fun than living in the past.

To some degree, Ben’s lack of willingness to play shows is what fuels his hermit-like reputation in the punk rock community. He has remained active in a behind-the-scenes manner by continually releasing records, but because he rarely attends or performs concerts he’s achieved somewhat of a mythical persona. “Since the last time I was actively going to shows it has become this thing where there are people who know who I am and are apparently fascinated by the fact that I’m there. It’s hard to even talk about this stuff without sounding arrogant, but it’s true. It does happen. I would say the vast majority of people are really cool and really polite. Occasionally there are people who aren’t and you just deal with it however you’re going to deal with it. I can name probably 100 people who don’t go to punk shows anymore that were as successful, if not more successful, in music than me and nobody notices. It’s because they’re not really doing music anymore. They’ve moved on to something else,” Weasel said. The other aspect of Ben’s assumed recluse character comes from his admitted struggles with agoraphobia and panic attacks. “That stuff has created a lot of this Howard Hughes kind of image of me,” he said. “All I can say to that is I really question the sanity of people who assume that if I don’t go to punk shows I don’t leave my house. I’m really happy with my social life and with the amount of time I spend at home and away from home. There have been times when I was not housebound but close to it. Those were not happy times. Those were really miserable times. The fact of the matter is I don’t go to punk shows because there’s really not a lot there for me.”

What troubles Weasel most is the continued misunderstanding of his bouts with mental illness. He feels as though the more he speaks out the worse it gets. His initial intent was to help fans with similar problems, but in the end these issues became the scapegoat for Screeching Weasel’s shortcomings. “The reason why I ever brought it up in the first place is I sort of naively thought that since I had kind of made a name for myself I had a certain responsibility to give something back. One of the ways I thought I could do that was by talking about my experiences and maybe then it would help some other people. I think it did in some ways. I got quite a lot of mail and still do from people with the same problem. It’s really nice when you get mail from kids who say it makes them feel better to know that somebody’s music they like has suffered from this problem as well. If that’s as far as it went then it was absolutely worth it,” Weasel said.

Looking past such negative subjects, Ben Weasel finds himself a happy man nowadays. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been, there’s no question about it. I’ve got a terrific wife. I’m busy as hell, in a good way, and I’m creatively doing well. I’m really happy with the work that I’m doing. Married life is terrific and I’m grateful that I get a second opportunity for that. Psychologically, spiritually and physically I’m fuckin’ doing great. I wake up every day happy to get up,” he said. With Ben enjoying a harmonious existence, the timing seems fitting for Screeching Weasel’s revival. Asian Man’s reissues have given today’s young punk generation a chance to acquaint themselves with a special band from yesteryear. The re-mastered albums are proof that Screeching Weasel undoubtedly stands the test of time. Their attitude and influence have yet to be duplicated, and even detractors would be hard-pressed to deny the group’s significance. Perhaps Joe Queer, a longtime collaborator/friend of the band, said it best when in the liner notes of the My Brain Hurts reissue he exclaimed, “Even though Screeching Weasel never sold millions of albums, as many lesser bands have done, I know that for one brief space in time they were the greatest band in the world”.