Make Believe- Weezer
After an escapade of near death at my last assignment in the field, Sean Carroll demoted me to simple desk jobs, stubbing his cigar out on my forehead with a flourish of his wrist. But I wasn’t too disappointed. Why? My task was to review the next Weezer album.
I eagerly opened the case with my shaking fingers. It was like Christmas, albeit a Christmas with Rivers Cuomos singing about girl troubles in my lobe-less ears, and a Christmas taking place in late spring. "Weezer," I said, "you won’t disappoint this time. I know you wont," only partially aware that I sounded like an Enid Blyton creation, and fully aware that Michael Bay could write better dialogue. I could have sworn Rivers winked back at me from the cover, his thick spectacles acting like a magnifying glass. If I hadn’t be on hallucinogenic drugs at the time. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so optimistic. After all, the album was called "Make Believe", the cover had a little too much pink for my liking, and the lead single "Beverley Hills" was nothing to write home about, even if you had an urge to write home about Weezer to a puzzled family. But I listened.
And I was angered. Shocked, in fact, by the banality, and pure shitness of the music that was on offer. Am I being harsh? Its true, I am slightly more critical due to what I expect from Weezer. After all, I was, in my mind, out clubbing with Rivers in the Good Life, I was the very-American tank-top wearing mound speaking to Rivers in the sweater song, heck, I was even the 18 year-old girl in Across the Sea. And this betrayal is foisted upon me? I’d burn the CD but I’m afraid that it would melt into my skin, leaving a permanent reminder of this horrible album etched physically onto my arm.
There are few positives, but there are some. Perfect Situation is an upbeat enough, catchy enough, tune. Beverley Hills is Rivers reliving his high-school past- he must be more than 30- bitterly. It seems he is so eager to stay in a perpetual state of discomfort- i.e. jocks stealing his glasses, girls rejecting him with well-crafted tales of lesbianism- that he wont leave College. We are all on drugs is an aurally pleasing song, that has some sort of theme. Sadly Rivers executes it poorly, rhyming words together for pop-effect, rather than impact- "beat-street, cool-school". This, coupled with fairly formulaic instrumentation, leaves a sour taste in the mouth. We wouldn’t expect this from Blink 182, why Weezer? All the rest of the songs are similarly lyrically idiotic. "Fascist pig" is used in one song. Considering the dexterity He shows in El Scorcho, Pink Triangle and Only In Dreams, it’s a shocking effort. "The damage in your heart" is slightly better than the rest, but no where near the standards of other Weezer efforts. "Freak me out" is one of the most risibly irritating songs I have ever heard, The sort of song Britney Spears would release if she could play two chords on a guitar.
Instantly forgettable (thank God), this album is a poor addition to the Weezer cannon, inspiring me to attack Robert Coleman due to his resemblance to a band member. A band member who may or may not have left. Robert Coleman is probably bleeding in a ditch somewhere. And its all this albums fault.
2.5/ 5
By Ed Shanahan
