Weezer album forgettable, lacks depth

By Aitor Zabalegui

Weezer had already cemented classic status as a band back in 1996 with the release of their second album, "Pinkerton."

They had all the credentials -- universal acclaim, a rumored concept album that never came to fruition and they even quit in their prime.

Reforming in 2000 to a reinvigorated sense of fame, Weezer released their third album, which consisted of a great song called "Hash Pipe," and a slew of painfully similar, forgettable tracks.

"Raditude," the band's seventh album, is a further demonstration of Rivers Cuomo commercially marketing schlock, that apparently he is an avid fan of, under the guaranteed sell of the Weezer name.

The album is full of meaningless hook, but it's when Cuomo is trying to make a statement that he shows just how inarticulate these songs can get.

The Lil Wayne and Jermaine Dupri collaboration, "Can't Stop Partying," for instance, is an attempt at satire that's so abysmal it only succeeds in self-parody.

Here Cuomo sings about his bad habits, "Just follow the smoke, they're bringing bottles of the goose/and all the girls in the corner getting loose/screw rehab I love my addiction/no sleep no sleep I am always on a mission."

Only Cuomo knows why this was a subject he felt he had to tackle, considering he already has been "Tired of Sex."

Cuomo sings half-heartedly about his lavish lifestyle like it's a crutch before Lil Wayne comes in to display some actual, honest affliction. It's a juxtaposition that eliminates the slight possibility of a message. "Party like tomorrow is my funeral/gotta stop mixing alcohol with pharmaceuticals," croaks Wayne, and the rest of his lines echo with similar bravado.

The entire second verse plays off like a Lil Wayne song as well actually, but when the wet blanket of a chorus cuts Wayne out, you realize that Weezer has been outclassed by someone who exemplifies the life they were trying to mock.

Even the ostensibly ambitious, "Love is the Answer," fails to demonstrate any sort of ingenuity, let alone effort.

In no way does the stereotypical middle-eastern-tinged accompaniment blend in well with the paltry, cookie-cutter formula Cuomo has rehashed again and again.

It's as if the band threw in a last-minute attempt to not make all the songs on the album sound the same.

The only off-beat song on the album, not shockingly, was not written by Cuomo. "In the Mall," is steady riff-rock, complete with a fuzz-bomb guitar solo.

It's similar to the Weezer most people can remember, but still lacking in the earnestness that allowed a band of 25 year-olds to sing songs about playing D&D in their parent's garage.

This band is beyond salvageable.

The only thing critically relevant about them anymore is wondering just how awful they can get.

There's only one way to refer to this album, Baditude. Yes, Baditude.

There is no reason to be creative about it considering that Weezer doesn't seem to employ a worthy effort themselves.

Cuomo and his backing band may have lost any artistic integrity they had remaining, but surely they'll enjoy their stay at the top of the charts.

Contact Aitor Zabalegui at azabalegui@scu.edu or (408) 554-1918.