My dearest Weezer,
We both know we have a history. We don’t need to go too heavily into detail, but the last time I heard from you, you made a record that sounded like someone let loose a pre-fight UFC fighter with a machete into my cochlea.
I don’t know if you know this, but I responded by using copies of “Raditude” ($2.98 on Amazon, everybody!) as projectiles, throwing them at stray hipsters outside of my apartment to get them back to their studio spaces in the basement of Twin Donuts in Allston. (Yelling “Shoo!” and “Free Animal Collective show and 1980s cardigans roughly two miles away from my apartment in any direction!” stopped working after a while.)
But let’s not dwell on the past, baby girls. It’s time to kiss and make up.
I write to you offering a truce.
Your new album, Hurley, was assigned a release date yesterday. It’s coming out September 14th, and your lead singer, Rivers Cuomo, says, “There’s definitely going to be more raw rock energy on this one.”
Let’s quote the AV Club’s Alex Birko’s reaction to that idea:
“Like Pinkerton? We liked Pinkerton, just make another one like that.“
Look, we don’t know what’s going on, Rivers. There’s a lot of speculation that you’re just very good at reciting your life in a relatable way -- and you’ve always been very good at reciting your life in a relatable way -- but you just don’t connect with the modern man anymore because you live the high life in L.A.
Maybe we just liked it when you were singing about places we already know.
With that said, that doesn’t explain the chord progression in “Beverly Hills.” I’m not sure anything can explain the chord progression in “Beverly Hills.”
But remember that time we grew up together? You were a friend a few years older than me that gave me the time of day for no real reason. You described parties at which I wanted to be, phrases which I wanted to use shamelessly in public (“What’s with the homies dissin’ my girl? Why do they gotta front?”), and sweater-destroying-sessions with half-Japanese girls that I so desperately hoped to be real life.
And then, even when you didn’t, even when you complained about the vacuous relationships of your late-20s or the banality of dealing with screaming, spoiled kids, you just compiled the best 13 riffs you could find and made the supremely underrated Maladroit. And that, somehow, made me want to be in my late-20s.
Can we get back to that? I’m not asking you to bring me through your relationship with a lesbian or baseless, angsty, and eminently relatable depression. I’m not even sure I want to go there right now.
I’m just wondering if you could remove the sheen and become even a little maladroit, just a little bit, one last time.
Today's Soundtrack: Weezer - The Good Life
Weezer - Burndt Jamb
The author is solely responsible for the content.