The album is most effective when Cuomo fades into the dusky, melancholy ambiance.
Weezer’s Everything Will Be Alright in the End is an exultant “fuck you” to dashed expectations and the snarky wallow in past glories.
Hurley favors scripted wackiness and blog fodder over the depth and sincerity that have made Weezer’s best work so endearing.
Textbook blog-hype band: first album praised beyond (but only a little beyond) its merits, automatically slammed by same for their follow-up.
Weezer’s unpardonable decline into soulless streamlined pop-rock continues with Raditude.
I think it was Lester Bangs who said listening to Pink Floyd is like wrestling with shit.
Seems to me that Hunky Dory is the last time Bowie was hanging back and outside of his “generation.”
Fooling the world and fooling yourself are, apparently, the exact same thing.
Romanek’s best work poses a serious challenge to others working in his field: Are you gonna go my way?
Didn’t Weezer used to strive for something more?
Not only for Spike Jonze fans, but for anyone that wants to see Fatboy Slim taking a bath.
In case your high school coach didn’t already tell you, then Weezer will: timing is everything.
Weezer’s fillerless third album doesn’t leave much to complain about.