Raditude will make Weezer fans miss the old days

By Azia Squire

Raditude

Weezer

DGC/Interscope

Grade: C

Rocks like: The Cars, Cheap Trick

How can it be… Raditude

Weezer

DGC/Interscope

Grade: C

Rocks like: The Cars, Cheap Trick

How can it be that the same lyrical genius who wrote “Say It Ain’t So” also wrote the rudimentary lyrics to Raditude’s “I’m Your Daddy?”

Weezer is undoubtedly a legendary band, but on Raditude, its seventh studio album, it has continued on the downward slope it started with Make Believe.

Literally, every song is so generic that it can be summed up with the following: parties, money and “bee-yotches.”

At age 39, you might think that Rivers Cuomo would be reaching true profundity, but instead, he’s mumbling about Patron, cars and partying with Lil Wayne, of all people.

Maybe he’s making up for all the time wasted writing musical masterpieces in his younger years, but by the time the chorus of “Let It All Hang Out” starts with Cuomo announcing how he will let it all hang out with his “homies,” all sympathy vanishes.

At this point, it’s a terrifying thought that the album could outdo itself with stupidity, but somehow it does with “In the Mall,” a two-and-a-half minute track about hanging out in the mall.

If there’s a saving grace for this album, it’s the instrumentation.

Armed with syncopated drum beats, synthesized power-punk melodies and bombastic club bass that would put 50 Cent to shame, when it comes to head-bobbing (and maybe some drunken air guitar), Raditude is nearly irresistible.

The main issue with this album is not that Weezer is no longer the band it was with Pinkerton. It’s that the band tries desperately to be a band it shouldn’t want to be: shallow and forgettable.