Not Another Self-Titled Weezer Album!

Well it almost was. With the composure of a twenty-ten power pop record and the edge that only a seasoned rock vet can deliver, Weezer's Hurley parades it's audience like cattle through a slaughterhouse; it leads with an inviting and familiar feel, yet probes curiosity with hooks at every turn, and when all is said and done, the audience will find themselves blown away - though they meet with an unfortunate end!  

Rivers Cuomo takes to the adage, "Come in with a bang..." with "Memories", the first of only two songs on the album not co-written by outside help (which begs the question, "Does the old man need a cane?").  A quick pulse and synth lead make it known that this is a Weezer you've never heard before, while those raw-feeling Say-It-Ain't-So-esque polyphonic chorus vocals serve to reassure long-time Weezer lackeys that what they've faithfully been coming back for time and time again is still on the menu.  Just when it seems the song has revealed all it's material in time for a repetition or two, we're hit with a fresh and exciting bridge that manifests in an instrumentation along the lines of "Jimmy Eat World meets The Killers".  This order of interest appropriately foreshadows the overall construction of the album.

After a quick breath, the same tempo starts back up with "Ruling Me".  This time around, the vocal melody takes leaps and bounds, and ends up in a place far more interesting than it's predecessor.  The album could've started here, three minutes and fourteen seconds into the experience, and been no less exciting.  Already, it becomes apparent that the half-hour yet to come is doomed to that stereotypical modern pop dynamic monotony that effectively tells audiophiles where they can put their 90dB signal-to-noise ratio, but with lines like, "If I am a knob, don't fade me" and "My Ocular Nerve went 'Pop-Zoom'" a nerd can't help but stay enthused.  From the kick on every quarter-note, start to end, to the cliché I-V-VI-IV punk pattern (Are we listening to Enema of the State?), everything on this track claims to be the product of a textbook hit machine.

That's exactly what Weezer has become; foregoing any real flow or logic, the tracks seem to be placed merely in order of the likelihood that they will receive airplay.  As such, "Trainwrecks" is the continuation of an unending showcase of catchy, clever lyrics and over-driven guitars albeit at a slower tempo (finally).  That's right, with a quick ear and a sense of wit, Cuomo's words will inevitably summon a smile.  In fact, there may not be much more to Cuomo than the tongue in his cheek, so if the audience is looking for a deep emotional meaning hidden beneath lyrics like, "We don't update our blogs" or "Someday we'll…crash a Diddy party in disguise", they're probably SOL.

Given the line-up preceding it, who would've predicted that "Unspoken" would lead off with an acoustic guitar and jazz flute duo?  The highlight of this song is definitely a toss-up between the solid, angsty chorus and the quirky jazz flute riffs.  This, by the way, is the only other song on Hurley written solely by Cuomo.  Strings build to fill out the spatial pallet just before the whole band explodes into the mix, over-driven guitars and all, to recite the chorus a few more times.  This is a song to be proud of, and one of the more promising from this album.

The follow-up is a spectacular anthem of confusion and, perhaps, an ode to the absent-minded.  "Where's My Sex?" is politically incorrect in the way that had MTV denying "We Are All on Drugs" airplay, but if it's hard to appreciate phrases like, "Sex-making is a family tradition", Weezer is probably not the artist to audit; this is just good clean fun in disguise (think socks).

"Runaway" is a slightly more charming, sentimental tune.  The distortion is dialed down and the beat is laid-back.  This song is about as close to filler as this album can get and still achieves a memorable monologue.  It's certainly not worth lifting a finger to hit the skip button for and leaves a large excitement void, which is a good thing.

When any other album would start turning stale, Cuomo tells the audience to "Hang On".  The instrumentation and sound is reminiscent of "Memories", as if to "restart" the album (And it does it's job).  "Hang On" has that sunset-falling-leaves-end-of-the-line feel, yet promises that "this isn't the end".  As a bonus, listen closely; that's Michael Cera calling out, "Hang on!" over and over again, playing mandolin, and the hurdy gurdy (Why so retro?).  Even for those that couldn't care less who plays or sings what, this is unarguably one of the highlights of the album.

Embracing it's new life, the album hurtles forward with "Smart Girls".  Is it wrong for a forty-something married man to talk about "Yumi, Sherie, Alison, Mary… Lisa, Brittany, Paula, Whitney… Debbie, Donna, [and] Tatiana" "Sleeping in the buff"?  Not if there's a fast-paced, driving beat and a guitar solo involved.  Ethics aside, the song is high-energy and slick.

Again, Weezer exhibits an instrumentation that feels more like Jimmy Eat World's Futures with "Brave New World".  The melody and chords are intense, but the writing doesn't follow suit.  Phrases seem to be lacking in complexity for the sound they've been written into.  This song probably ended up at the bottom of the list because of this awkward mismatch of theme and feel.

As worse comes to worst, a dissonant and wildly-clipping thump introduces  "Time Flies".  Just be glad it's the end of the album and sit through it.  If Weezer hadn't been going for antiquity with this "raw" recording, it might've come off as a charming end to a redeeming set of ideas (Reedeeming in that the last few albums have been lackluster).  Instead, it's an ear-sore and an unfortunate end to what was otherwise an enjoyable experience.  

The album, in it's entirety, is a vast improvement over Raditude (an album with less than a year's worth of sales so far), and feels more like a return to the foundation than a departure from the recent past.  Hints of "Island in the Sun", "Undone (The Sweater Song", "Buddy Holly", and "My Name is Jonas" surface here and there.  The album resembles the first two self-titled releases and was nearly a self-titled release itself.  There's plenty here for new-found and long-time fans.