Weezer's Make Believe

These two truths that I have come to accept.

Whenever a Weezer album gets released,
1. I really, really want to like it, and
2. I do not like it.

2001’s The Green Album was a solid chunk of prototypical pop songwriting and worked well as such. 2002’s Maladroit was a rushed hack job with some catchy pop-metal songs on it. Neither came close to capturing the ineffable spirit of “Weezer-ness” that many had grown to love about the band in the 1990s.

What, then, of Make Believe, a record some might call Weezer’s last chance to prove themselves to a crowd of fans growing increasingly weary of their descent into mediocrity? I’m sorry to report that the much-hyped rumor of a “return of the classic Weezer sound” is merely that. The emotion is back, sorta, but Cuomo’s lyrics are as vague as ever. The production is much tighter, and the band is using a much wider palette than they have before, generously incorporating keyboards and acoustic guitars (and, if I’m not mistaken, a violin?) into their sound. Plus, the record itself is the Weezer’s most diverse stylistically. So what’s the problem?

The problem is, and I never thought I’d say this about Weezer, that the songs just aren’t compelling. At all. Everything unique and interesting about Weezer (well-written lyrics, unconventional song structures, wonderfully slipshod and meandering guitar riffs, creative bass lines, and energetic drum fills) has effectively vanished. The band is now simply a song machine. Chords, hooks, melodies, harmonies, guitar solos: they’re all there in the right amounts and the right places, but we don’t need to come to Weezer circa 2005 for them, because they did it better ten years ago. In fact, I’d rather put on an Ozma record than Make Believe – I know listening to a younger band with a fresh, new take on Weezer’s initial blueprint will be more rewarding.

There are a few worthwhile moments on Make Believe, but they are so rare it’s hardly worth it. The intro to “Perfect Situation” verges on beautiful guitar chaos. “We Are All On Drugs” is a terrific hair metal anthem, with its shouted refrain, chunky chords, and Cuomo’s punctuating the chorus with “give it to me!” – it’s one song whose musical backdrop actually isn’t harmed by Cuomo’s inane couplets: clunky metal is supposed to have hackneyed, cliché lyrics about drugs, so insanely childish lines like “You show up late to school/ ‘cause you think you’re really cool” are OK...or would be, just this once, but that Cuomo does this on every song (he pulls out the dreaded "hero/zero," even) .

“Hold Me” almost works – Cuomo lets some tenderness creep into his voice for the first time since Pinkerton’s “Butterfly,” and “This is Such A Pity” is a pleasing slice of with keyboard-heavy new wave a la the Cars. Just like the band’s last album, though, there’s way too much filler on Make Believe that would have best been left in Cuomo’s vault (“The Damage in Your Heart,” “Haunt You Every Day,” even the no-brainer single “Beverly Hills”) – along with the rumored 50 or so songs that are still on the cutting room floor.


Maybe I’ll change my mind in a few months, but right now I don’t have 45 minutes to spare for an OK-ish album by what used to be my favorite band.