Review Summary: Everything is OK.
Rivers Cuomo and his audience have something in common: they've both been damaged too many times to count. How is it that a band originally slated for alternative rock glory became so quickly embittered by the big bad music industry?
Everything was set to blossom for Weezer when they released
The Blue Album, a 10-track shuffled-up opus of childish angst and downtrodden power pop. In a time where humour was severely lacking, Weezer were gleefully defiant in creating Happy Days throwbacks. They stuck out like the sorest of thumbs to the grimmest of outcasts. It was that defiance of the emerging misery scene that gathered them a strong audience, pushing them to the forefront for those craving something a little quirkier than what was available. But as is all too well known Cuomo's attempt to follow it up with
Pinkerton failed. Introversion was met with derision and sni
ggers; most notably, the readers of
Rolling Stone came to declare it the third worst album of 1996, mocking the tender openness of Cuomo as vile misogynistic bile. It didn't seem unfair of fans to be on the offense, either; to come off of an album like
The Blue Album with something so grunge-symptomatic felt like betrayal. Where were the singles? Where were the hooks? Why were they getting angry with lesbians?
Even though it all seemed to make sense in Cuomo's soul, to be told repeatedly he failed so unprofessionally had gotten to him. It took him 5 years to articulate himself again; when he did, what we got was
The Green Album, an album lacking in any true inward-gazing moments despite a handful of brilliant singles. It wasn't a bad album, but when you consider what came after it- a litany of
Make Believe's and "Pork & Beans"'s- you really feel that disaffection that infected Cuomo's soul. Symptomatic of the fickle and perverted nature of music journalism, a dichotomy manifested, an internal conflict between who Rivers Cuomo is and who he thinks people want him to be.
And thus, the vicious cycle continues. Every time Weezer attempt to make an album, Cuomo writes with the veil of bitter criticism looming over shoulder. What we end up with, invariably, always disappoints. This cycle was typified by the horrendous mislead to
Raditude that was "If You're Wondering If I Want You To (I Want You To)", leaving Weezer with little more than nostalgic value. Understandably, cynicism grew strong when "Back to the Shack" premiered earlier this year. We'd been hurt way too many times to count, with ingenuity lingering in the air when Cuomo sang of taking it, 'Back to the strat' with the lightning strap'. Could one big riff, one big chorus and one big solo
really save Weezer? Well, yes and no. Yes, in that
Everything Will Be Alright in the End is, post-
Pinkerton, Weezer's best album. No, in that those aren't particularly high standards to meet.
The good news is that if you were skeptical of "Back to the Shack"'s implications, you have no reason to be. By and large,
Everything... is exactly what a Weezer album should be: confessional lyrics, hard/alternative rock pastiche, and room for addictive, infectious melodies. That's instantly apparent on "Ain't Got Nobody", with no hook squandered and no riff out of place across the relatively brief power pop trip. Cuomo uses brevity to his advantage, and even as something as overboard as "The Futurescope Trilogy" undoes it, innocent and sincere glee ingrains itself deep within
Everything...'s roots. It's obvious that the presence of Ric Ocasek behind the mixing board has worked to their advantage, urging Cuomo to retire anxieties for the purpose of greater comfort in expression. Cuomo no longer feels stifled and frustrated like he did on
Pinkerton. Midlife has now equipped him with the tools to survive.
Eventually though, that's where
Everything Will Be Alright In The End starts to fault. Much like all great art, Weezer's best material originates from suffering and misery found deep within the soul. If that was a yearning for youth on
The Blue Album and a commentary on the darkest aspects of life on
Pinkerton, here it's more about cutting through those 18-years of suffering and purifying the craft. As keen as Rivers Cuomo is to distance himself from his progressively declining career, he goes more for apologizing for it than outwardly acknowledging and dealing with it. That's what makes "Back to the Shack" and "Eulogy for a Rock Band" substantial in terms of its Panopticon concept, but it leaves a little bit of resentment when Cuomo quickly moves on and preaches Belladonna woes on "Lonely Girl", simply
pretending the last 18-years didn't happen. It's obvious the best songs are those that deal with the Panopticon aspects at the beginning of the record. It's there where Cuomo decides he'll effortlessly start shredding and throwing out the best hooks in his arsenal. A metaphor for Weezer's career,
Everything... makes a downwards trajectory until "The Futurescope Trilogy" (itself a tribute to "Only in Dreams"), tracking the pertinence of Cuomo's lyrical work likewise.
On a broader spectrum it's a little disengaging to begin examining the record under comb, as the skeletal flaws of
Everything... become unsightly errors. Unlike
Pinkerton, which lacerated and exposed the dork within,
Everything... seems just a bit too immediate to really be affecting within its narrative. As "Eulogy for a Rock Band" indicates, Cuomo is at peace with his relationship to band members and fans. As "Cleopatra" reveals, Cuomo is working on his interaction with the opposite sex and is- everything considered- succeeding. As even "Foolish Father" displays, Cuomo isn't especially phased or anxious about his parental relationships. Where he once confessed to sexually interpreting fan mail with perverted glee, Cuomo now seems uncomfortably at peace with himself. That's clearly not a negative (to encourage suffering for the sake of art is intolerable), but to say it hinders an interesting album is undeniable. Imagine what could've been if "Ain't Got Nobody" was just that much more bitter, a little more weathered. Imagine what could've been if "The British Are Coming" was as frustrated and isolated as much as it was playful and meaningless. No, Weezer don't pretend to be under pressure, but one can't help but feel that they're just a bit too optimistic about their affairs.
Really though, should that stop us enjoying the first good Weezer album in years? I wouldn't forgive ecstatic fans for believing a little too much in a record like this. You've been hurting; so has Rivers Cuomo, a fact he seeks to begin rectifying and working on here. Whether or not he continues down this path or gives in to anxieties is anybody's guess, so you might as well enjoy the ride while it lasts. Sincerely, if this is the end, everything is ok.
