With every new Weezer record, I persuade myself that this could be the one - where Rivers Cuomo makes me forget about every post-Pinkerton release and goes back to an edgier, more personal place (also known as the mid-90s). Trust me, I know it's a terrible habit, one that I'm finally ready to confront after Hurley's undeserved four listens. I've gone as far as to skip Weezer's Bumbershoot show and a large part of me truly hoped a Seattle man's half-serious campaign of raising $10 million for Weezer to breakup would work. It's been a tough separation, but Weezer, it really is you, not me.
Thankfully, this week's reissue of the 1996 classic Pinkerton and the band's "Memories" tour, beginning at the end of the month, creates a perfect opportunity for Weezer to call it a day.5. "Beverly Hills." Sure, it's an easy target, but its importance in the downfall of Weezer should not be understated. On the one hand, it works in a Top 40-pop kind of way (so does this humiliation). But on the other hand, as the lead single from 2005's Make Believe, it destroyed any goodwill the band had with its hardcore fans after 2002's Maladroit.
4. "Everybody Get Dangerous." Hopes that 2008's The Red Album would be a rebound weren't shot immediately - the first four songs are actually listenable and "Heart Songs" proves Cuomo still has some emotion left in him. Then we get this monstrosity and, later, Cuomo gives up lead vocal duties on three of the album's ten songs.
3. "Can't Stop Partying (Featuring Lil Wayne)." As a demo on Cuomo's Alone II, this was an acoustic guilty pleasure. As a Weezer and Weezy collaboration, it's just a joke in the careers of both.
2. "Where's My Sex?" This, the worst track off this year's Hurley, replaces the word "socks" with "sex." One problem: it's not even a tiny bit humorous. Rivers, when you're singing "Where's my sex? / I thought it was here / under the bench / but it isn't there," no one is laughing with you. Actually, everyone is laughing at you and wondering where your dignity went.
1. "Love Is the Answer." 2009's Raditude was a failure in just about every sense, but this one really put the icing on the cake. If George Harrison heard this, he'd likely turn over in his grave. Pitchfork summed it up nicely, calling the song a "Bollywood-drenched Hallmark card ... which is absolutely awful."