Jamie T’s second album in two years is a punk, rap, pop and hardcore tour de force
Weezer : The Green Album
Perpetual frat boys goof some more
All of which are reasons for, if not exactly celebration, then at least some sort of relief - for there is only so much Weezer one can bear. After all, these are the grown men who, via such light-hearted hits as 'Buddy Holly' and 'The Sweater Song', bravely brought idiocy and sexual inadequacy into the pop-place while sounding like The Beach Boys with Y-fronts on their heads.
The most irritating aspect of 'The Green Album' is, however, the maddening itch of wasted opportunity. If it was as sonically, lyrically and conceptually as annoying as, say, 'Pinkerton', at least there would be something to rail against. Instead, the 11 tracks trundle along in a generally inoffensive slipstream of occasionally admirable but mainly dull AOR silliness. Some of it even sounds like Crowded House. Thus, 'Simple Pages' is a breezy rock-around-the-campus chug with a sun-protection-factor of minus 15, and cutesy stompalong 'Crab' contains the sort of ambiguity that'll have closet frat boys snickering behind the pages of Viz ("Crab if you need it/She put her knickers on").
Yet for all their tiresome doofus act, Rivers Cuomo and co clearly know their bliss-pop onions. There's a solid-gold pop heart beating deep within 'TGA''s braying grooves. 'I Do' in particular, is a piano-enhanced breath of FM loveliness. Why, then, they insist on smothering such charm in swathes of tedious, plaid-coloured guitar is a mystery.
They coulda been contenders. Instead, Weezer blew their last chance of salvation on the roulette table of mediocrity. Laugh? This one will have you in tears.
Character studies and ready melodies abound in the latest record by the Oxford quartet
A battle-like record where fear and dread rule
Another gripping Pedro Almodóvar mystery, full of vibrant visuals and emotional revelations
The Californian succeeds, once again, in exposing the ugliness of mankind. It’ll get under your skin