Ben Weasel. The name conjures up many images for many people. He was punk rock personified back in the day, with his powerful pop-punk albums like Boogada Boogada Boogada, My Brain Hurts, and others. To others he’s a self-aggrandizing jerk, out to promote himself at all costs. And to others yet, he’s a misogynistic jerk who punches women at his shows. The truth is, he’s all of these. When “Carnival of Schadenfreude” was released, I commented that no matter what you thought about Ben, he still wrote some damn good pop punk music. That was in the wake of his meltdown at SXSW and replacing the entire lineup of Screeching Weasel. So, is it still true, nearly four years on? Does Ben still make great music? Does this “new” Screeching Weasel match the past one(s)?

Well, granted, this album isn’t your usual Screeching Weasel record. It’s a punk rock “opera,” complete with a storyline and libretto. Now, didn’t Green Day already do one of these, with American Idiot? And, if you don’t want to count that as punk, what about Fat Mike’s Home Street Home? Well, yes, they did. And, to my ears, they did it better. To be honest, with a few exceptions, I’m pretty underwhelmed by Baby Fat Act 1. While there are a few good songs, with that patented Weasel snotty sound, much of this album is, to be honest, kind of wanky. It all starts with the instrumental, “Tremendo Fantasma (Baby Fat Overture),” which sounds like a Sergio Leone soundtrack on the cheap. “Attention!” is next, featuring The Dwarves’ Blag Dahlia in the title role of Baby Fat, and it’s decent enough. But it’s not until “So Long, Mojo” that we get Ben, and it sounds somewhat like classic Weasel; poppy and punky, though it definitely has the sound of being from a musical production, sort of theater geek pop-punk. I think one track that works really well is “I’ve Got VD,” sung by Todd Congelliere, Recess Records boss and front man of Toys That Kill, FYP, and Underground Railroad to Candyland. As a matter of fact, the songs not sung by Weasel generally seem to come off better than those sung by Ben. Some of them sound rougher, more real. Ben’s songs seem trite and forced, to be honest. It pains me to say this, because I was a huge Weasel fan back in the day, but I’m not going to recommend this one. - Paul Silver

There is no reason for me to unearth the past and retell the tale of the last few years for Ben Weasel, except to say that the reports of Mr. Weasel’s demise have been greatly exaggerated. Baby Fat, Act 1 is indeed the first of a two-part punk opera conceived and crafted by Ben Weasel and a gathering of friends, inspired by the luminary Italian opera "Rigoletto." There are two components to this record, just as with any opera - namely, the quality of the music and the clarity of the story telling. As per usual, Ben Weasel excels at the first, but as he moves into a realm very different from his traditional Ramones-fetish punk, the story of Baby Fat becomes convoluted. From what I could decipher, twenty-seven songs here tell the first portion of the story of Baby Fat (portrayed vocally throughout the majority of the record by Blag Dahlia of Dwarves), the wheelchair-bound manager of rock star Tommy Swank and Swank’s band Serpentello. The story opens in a small room above the vast Chicago skyline in which an eclectic band of mourners has arrived to bid farewell to Swank’s closest friend and confidant, Mojo. Mojo, by the way, is a chimpanzee that is later eulogized in “So Long, Mojo”. Since this is the product of Screeching Weasel, I was not expecting "Pagliacci," but the death of a chimp seems a little goofy, unless this was a buried Ramones tribute to “Bonzo Goes to Bitburg” and Weasel was simply replacing Reagan’s best acting partner with Mojo.

Regardless of the somewhat muddled storyline, only made increasingly imperceptible with the introduction of a series of characters including Kat Spazz as Poveretta, Roger Lima of Less Than Jake as Stompanato, and Todd Congelliere as Queeg, there is a multitude of celebratory moments found here. For fans of classic Screeching Weasel, “I’ve Got VD,”“Kewpie Doll,” and “Without Belief” (a fascinating rebuttal of faith considering Ben Weasel’s personal spiritual journey within the past few years) are uproarious blasts of speedy punk power.

However, there is also the juxtaposition of these efforts with a piano-laded misstep called “Satan Leapt,” the seemingly hastily conceived “Disharmony,” and the stumble of “I’m a Lone Wolf.” Kat Spazz helps restore order with her wondrously warm voice on “Creeping in Silence,” while the bouncy, feel-good pieces “All Winter Long” and “Things Aren’t so Bad After All” provide slight optimism in an otherwise contemplative and slightly cumbersome play.

Considering he is the mastermind behind Baby Fat, Ben Weasel makes only a smattering of appearances vocally, allowing other “cast members” to shine while he directs with the force of guitar playing and sheer will necessary to make a project like this materialize. It is rare to discuss Screeching Weasel and mention, with a straight face, questions of life, death, morality, ethics, sex, and faith, but all of those topics and more are addressed here. The closing seconds of the final number, “Born to Fail,” feature the line “God help us all,” and it may be a fitting metaphor for this undertaking. I am curious as to reaction from long-time fans to Baby Fat; millennials who enjoy bashing people from behind their parents' laptops should keep their ill-informed opinions to themselves, but I want to know how those who have loved this outfit for decades will respond to this uniquely crafted take on high culture.

Ultimately, there is much more success than failure here, and I have listened to this several times from start to finish. The production is majestic, the musicianship is superb, and the sarcasm is inserted in all the right places. Personally, I could have done without a few of the tracks, but this did pique my interest as to what happens to Poveretta, Tommy Swank, and naturally Baby Fat in Act 2. Sadly, however, I guess Mojo will not return. - Rich Quinlan