Weezer- Raditude (***)

Since 2001, one thing has remained constant about Weezer: They’ve pissed off all the critics and fans that fell in love with them in the 90s, and they’ve seemed to take pleasure in doing it.

While bands evolved and lose followers over time, none of them inspire as much hatred and betrayal that Weezer’s ex-fans seem to exhibit. Old followers and rock snobs have collectively disowned Rivers Cuomo, the supposed geek rock equivalent of Anakin Skywalker, accusing him of shifting to the pop music Dark Side with his penchant for hooks and loud guitar. By their standards, The Green Album was too slick, Maladroit was too dull, Make Believe was too poorly written, and The Red Album, for lack of a better way to say it, was just too goofy.

And now, they have Raditude to hate as well.

With 10 tracks, and a fleet of songwriting partners, Weezer’s Raditude effectively ends the hope that Cuomo will ever revisit the mindset that made Pinkerton such a cherished record. Packed to the brim with sugary hooks, punchy rhythms, and squealing guitar, Raditude revels in everything a 13-year-old boy could love about rock music, and everything a 40-year-old man needs to feel young. The result is a record that indulges in ALL of Weezer’s cheesy tendencies, but with half the fun and absence of wit.

On the surface, however, the record is certainly crisp sounding. “I’m Your Daddy” features chugging guitars and thick moog synthesizers, reminding fans that Cars-inspired power-pop never quite goes out of style. Elsewhere, the squealing pseudo metal of “Let It All Hang Out” and the acoustic backed “(If You’re Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To” inject the disc with plenty of big sing along moments while proving that Weezer is the Bruce Lee of crunchy rhythms.

However, there are some musical detours that bog the disc down, the saccharine quality of such leaving a poor taste in some listeners’ mouths. The Sugar Ray original, but Cuomo penned, “Love Is The Answer” mines a Bollywood aesthetic that feels out of place and inauthentic to really be construed as actual experimentation. Additionally, Cuomo and producer Jermaine Dupri transform the quiet/acoustic Cuomo demo “Can’t Stop Partying” into a bombastic electronic number, with bristling club beats and dance-ready synthesizers.

Oh yeah, and Lil Wayne spits on a verse.

Weezer have always toyed with arrangements, subject matter, and song styles that weren’t native to pop-punk, but this is the first time they fail to be ironic. Raditude’s glaring weakness is its transparency; the disc’s shallowness precludes it from being an astute observation about feel-good culture while relegating it to overwrought, and juvenile, clichés. It’s not that Lil Wayne is on a Weezer record, it’s that listeners can’t take Cuomo’s party anthem about feeling lonely in the club seriously because the music has been constructed too closely to the ideas he rails against.

Additionally, Weezer’s obsession with adolescence is neither clever nor nostalgic. In fact, it comes across as lazy. “Trippin’ Down The Freeway” features an explosive chorus and strong sense of melody, but the lyrics of “I told you that you had put on some weight/You went out with somebody named Kevin Green/You preferred to go to a volleyball game/I told you that you couldn't be more lame…” offer no insight from lost youth love. Much like the Pat Wilson penned clunker, “In The Mall,” it seems like the band is stuck in their Happy Days inspired music video, and cannot move past that when it comes to their subject matter.

Ultimately, Raditude provides a fun listen if an empty one. While it’s all well and good to parade a set of songs that sound like a band enjoying themselves, there is also an issue of really looking at the quality of said songs. Again, the group banishes their best track from this era (The thick, stompy power-pop number “The Prettiest Girl In The Whole Wide World”) to the deluxe edition b-sides, and they fail to exercise any restraint when it comes to their song craft.

In short, the band needs to go back to producer Ric Osseck.

While it’s far from the end of the world, it’s frustrating to see a band just coast on their talents. Raditude is fun in the way 80s hair metal is fun, but never feels as intimate as Weezer’s past catalog. It tragically fails at making listeners think whilst they’re having fun, a hallmark of Weezer’s brightest material. This is partly because of the collaborative song writing process, and the lack of a unified voice, but also because the band seems to be through with painting intimate portraits of their lives.

Gone is the Weezer that toured as metal cover band Goat Punishment, fronted by the Havard student that painted his room all black. Instead, listeners have to accept that this is a Weezer that likes feel-good tunes while hocking Weezer brand Snuggies. While it’s always true that bands evolve and change overtime, it’s fairly uncommon to see a bad relive their teens more than two decades into their career.

Then again, maybe only a band with this much raditude is gutsy enough to try.

Key Cuts: I’m Your Daddy, Let It All Hang Out, The Prettiest Girl In The Whole Wide World (Deluxe Edition only)

Sounds Like: The Cars (The Cars), Hysteria (Def Leppard), Pasadena (Ozma)

Click on the artwork to sample Raditude for yourself!