I will start this post by stating, in all seriousness, that in the past two years, there has only been one band who I have given the title of Favorite Band, and that band is Weezer--but only the first two albums. Since the release of 'Beverly Hills,' I have basically considered everything they have released to be pretty much worthless, with the exception of some fun sing-a-longs. But, while picking out CDs from the library the other day, I was drawn, whether by morbid humor or amusement, to choose Weezer's newest, Raditude--an album whose cover features a flying dog and whose track lists includes a Top 40 style pop song called 'Can't Stop Partying' featuring Lil Wayne. In all honesty...Can't Stop Partying is a super fun track. I didn't really give anything but the first couple tracks and 'Can't Stop Partying' a listen, because then I went and filled the gap between Pinkerton and Make Believe, a gap including Maladroit (which I actually enjoyed a great deal upon its release) and the Green album, which I have never, ever, ever been pleased with.
But, after listening to Maladroit a little bit, I decided I'd put on Green and see if it really is as terrible as I remember it being. And surprisingly...I enjoyed it. There wasn't really anything that stood out--the songs rarely venture past the three minute mark, the lyrics aren't too remarkable, and the guitar solos aren't too inventive--it's just a fun record. And sometimes, that's okay.
But, right now, I'm listening to Pinkerton (on vinyl, because I love this record so much that I'd be willing to pay more than what is reasonable for it), and Green stands dwarfed in the shadow of the emo/powerpop giant that is Pinkerton (it also stands dwarfed in the shadow of Blue, but that's a different review). Green is a fun rock n roll record filled with short, sweet pop songs. Pinkerton is a monolith. It's raw. It's dark. It's hilarious. It's the geekiest, rock n rollingest record ever produced, thanks to the combination of Patrick Wilson's best and hardest drum performance ever, Brian Bell's super-fuzzed guitar which often squeal feedback (the best product of the band's self-production), Matt Sharp's pounding bass, and River's oversharing, nerdily delivered lyrics, which sound like they were ripped out of an angsty, bored high schooler's math notebook--and I mean that in the best way possible--what, with lyrics like, 'everyone's a little queer/why can't she be a little straight/I'm dumb, she's a lesbian/I thought I had found the one.' Rivers lays himself bare on this record--and he's never been funnier, even in the more recent records where being funny is his intention.
I just started the record over. I need more.
Because besides the devastating power it brings and the geeky sensibilities, Pinkerton also has some of the most beautiful moments Rivers & Co. have ever brought to the table. From the testament to flawed devotion in 'No Other One' to the yearning 'Across the Sea' to the fearful 'Falling For You' to the bitter admonition of the acoustic closer 'Butterfly,' Weezer has never been so delicate, especially when they've been so forceful. It's difficult to compare this record with its predecessor, the impeccable Blue album, because they are so different. Blue is a monument to sweet powerpop goodness. Pinkerton is a dark tower of rock n roll and good old fashioned emo. Of the two, Pinkerton is definitely the black sheep, but never does Blue rise so high, or swoop so low. But, comparing Pinkerton to any release that came after, it's no contest. Pinkerton raised the bar too high to excuse its followers.
