Weezer (Red Album)

A number of plays through and it’s still not clear who, exactly, the band are taking the proverbial out of: themselves, playfully and absolutely intentionally, or us, fans who’ve become conditioned to not expecting the best from a band who, personally, have been a shadow of themselves since that first ‘sequel’ release.

Like the YouTube culture the "Pork and Beans" video depicts so well, the song--and this album--relies on a high quantity of short-lived pretty good ideas to distract from a shortage of great ones.

It's rich, often funny material, but in Cuomo's ambition to make a career-sweeping tour de force-- telegraphed by the band's choice to return to estimable producer Rick Rubin--he badly overcooks the musical porridge, layering on overdubs, packing songs with key-change modulations and meandering instrumental codas, and generally refusing to hone and self-edit.

Despite what they’d like us to think, The Red Album sounds like every one of Weezer’s misfires since "The Green Album": a few songs that work and a whole slew that flounder completely.

Over all, this new CD relies on familiar formulas: twitchy, singalong choruses, lyrical and musical in-jokes and affable vocal harmonies. But it also feels disjointed and indulgent, packed with stylistic U-turns.

The blame for Weezer can't all be laid on Cuomo—his bandmates' songwriting contributions (particularly Brian Bell's Uncle Kracker stab 'Thought I Knew') are just as unforgivably soulless.

Weezer dwells on his well-documented obsessions with bad girlfriends and geek nostalgia, but without the usual giddy, mathematically precise songcraft.

The songs are consistently vibrant, catchy, and well-built.

Though it tails off toward the end, the second Weezer-Rubin collaboration (and the band's third self-titled album, out June 3) is a rush, starting with a sustained, four-song soliloquy on pop music's allure.

A cheerfully restless record, one where all the parts don't fit and it's better because of it, as it has a wild, willing personality, suggesting that Weezer is comfortable as a band in a way they never quite have been before.

There are a few clunkers, and the three songs sung by other band members don't add much, but the so-called "Red Album" is better for its unevenness.

What stops The Red Album being a great Weezer album, is--for the first time ever--Cuomo’s invitation to his bandmates to sing and write songs too.

Now we get Cuomo name-dropping Eddie Rabbit, Joan Baez and "a Cat named Stevens," which makes Weezer sounds like a retread of "Built To Spill," who did the recycled-classic-rock-cliché thing back in 1999. Did it better, too.

Aside from a few missteps like 'Everybody Get Dangerous,' there really isn’t anything to get all pissy about here because it’s an older Weezer willing to take a few chances and still doing what they want to do.

Lyrics that once seemed cheeky and slyly referential back in the halcyon days of their 1994 debut (think ''Buddy Holly'') and 1996's Pinkerton (''El Scorcho'') have become tiresomely Seuss-ical on their sixth outing, Weezer.

['Pork and Beans'] is the best geek anthem this side of whatever MC Chris’ last hit was. The rest of the album may try men’s souls, but if you ask me the verdict’s still out.

The Red Album is a wonderful jumping-off point for their second wind. [July 2008, p.145]

Weezer seems to have driven their old shtick into the ground so perfectly, it almost seems like they've purposely become tired and boring.

Weezer's third eponymously titled album sees the progenitors of emo still frantically chasing their tail.

The Red Album brings forward everything they do best, with hooks aplenty, emotive and funny lyrics, all washed down with the odd frisson of self doubt. It's a potent mix, and keeps them a step ahead once again.

Just download the good stuff or buy the album and don’t expect much from Rivers because he never really gave you more than a few minutes of cheap thrills in the first place, which is plenty to thank him for.

Starting with irresistible lead single 'Pork and Beans', a chunk of Weezer’s sixth album delivers the band’s trademark combo of crushing power chords, pop-culture references and a healthy dose of ironic self-ridicule.

The Rick Rubin and Jacknife Lee-produced follow-up to 2005's "Make Believe," finds Cuomo precariously balanced btween amused/amusing self-obsessed and de facto narcissism. [July 2008, p.110]

All in all, this is pretty good album and it is by no means horrible.

Everything is supercharged and melodic, like a poppy version of Nirvana. [July 2008, p.111]

As such, it is both a strong refutation of every album Weezer has made since "Green" (as it, in its time, seemed to balk at "Pinkerton") and a numbing confirmation of the only available place this band has left: comic shearing, loose plagiarism, three separate solo projects (all of which are balls).

On this, the third eponymous Weezer record (see, they are incomparable wise-asses) and sixth in total, there are contained some of their most pronounced moments.

Weezer (red album), co-produced by Rick Rubin and Jacknife Lee (who has worked in the studio with Snow Patrol and R.E.M. and was a guitarist in Compulsion), is slight and flimsy (10 songs, 42 minutes), but finally returns the band to its peak entertainment level.

If Red Album’s songs were formulaic, shiny, and easily digestible like everything on Green or Maladroit, the vacuity of the new songs wouldn't be as big a problem. But 'Heart Songs,' 'Thought I Knew'--these are just plain bad.

Rivers Cuomo and co. deliver another scintillating collection of punk-pop – with added experimentation.