Three 65, Day 37
Weezer, Pinkerton

It's hard for kids today to imagine, but Weezer was once a band with limitless potential. I saw them open for Live with my little sister, before anyone knew who they were, and fuck if they didn't blow the headliners off the stage from the minute they hit their power chords.

Of course, we all know what happened: Frontman and musical head honcho Rivers Cuomo went to Harvard, finished his degree, and became an utter fuckwad. Their last two albums, the corporate buy-out Hurley and undercooked rarities collection Death To False Metal, were so bad I went out of my way to review them - to death. Their last good album, Raditude, actually only has four good songs, and even those are pretty cringe-inducing.

But Pinkerton... now, there's an album everyone can get behind. Weezer's second record, the album was virtually ignored upon its release because it didn't sound exactly like the poppy power-metal of the debut. What it sounded like was a poppy angst-fest, which is exactly what it is.

Take a look at some of the sentiments on display: There's "Tired Of Sex," which is about exactly what it sounds like, and of course, "Why Bother?," which is about not giving a crap for fear of pain and rejection. Cuomo veers back and forth from these feelings with songs like "Getchoo," about obtaining the love of his life, and the poignant "Across The Sea," which is an ode to a girl in Japan who loves the band but can never be close to Cuomo because of, well, the sea.

The whole thing is supposedly a riff on the Puccini opera Madama Butterfly, with the record itself named after one of its characters. I don't know much about opera, but I know what I like, and what I like is this great dichotomy Pinkerton has between abrasiveness and poppiness. Just when something sounds too harsh, the melody kicks in. Weezer never sounded like this again; they never even tried.