Even doused in black point, distorted beyond recognition or trying for some reason to spit bars, Weezer still maintain the ability to surprise, and even brush with something transcendental in a bridge here ... or a chorus there.
The Black Album feels like the most fully realized latter-day Weezer album: it may flagrantly draw from old and new elements of pop culture, yet it belongs to its own feverish world.
Their recent uptick in form had been supported by successfully channelled home comforts, but on Black they sound fully invested into exploring, and more than capable of handling, a new pop sound.
On the innovative Black Album, the pop-rock greats serve us a selection of well-evolved bangers.
With the band remaining prolific and energized, is it that interesting to spend so much time thinking about a 25-year-old masterpiece? Maybe it’s more important that Weezer’s idiosyncrasies feel honest again.
While followers and critics fret over whether or not the Black Album actually works as a cohesive record, Cuomo and his bandmates at least seem self-aware, and possibly even at rest with the fact, that it might not.
It’s a great - albeit mis-matched - collection of songs.
The LA band have made a wilfully goofy album whose jokes wear pretty thin, pretty fast – though this is a largely solid alt-pop record nonetheless.
At times, the Black Album feels like an awkward band trying to hang out with ‘the kids’, at others, it feels like a brilliant mind trying to work out where it fits in the modern world.
The band’s 13th album portends a musical change-up, but its core is still precise, poker-faced pop-rock.
This striving for the new and different comes at a cost. There’s no emotional throughline on The Black Album, no grand statement that continues from one track to the next. The songs never blur together, but they also don’t tell a story as the sum of their parts.
As uneven and muddled as it can be, The Black Album gets one clear message through from Cuomo to the thirty- and forty-somethings who loved him in the ‘90s: thanks for everything, but it’s time we all moved on.
Cuomo shrugs as he jumps from one middle-aged errand to the next, hoping to plop back to his bed so he can go back to daydreaming about the Pacific.
Overall, Black Album is a weaker release by a band that seems to be lacking direction. Despite some catchy highlights, too many songs are skippable with uninteresting music and empty lyrics.
To the extent that it adds new wrinkles to the Weezer formula while still sounding every bit like a Weezer album, you can call this a smashing success. But to the extent that anyone would ever use this music as the backdrop to a night out—sans irony, anyway—well, that’s much more debatable.
This is the most disjointed record in Weezer’s discography. Its probably not the worst but its right there with Raditude and Make Believe.
While it is absolutely no crime for a band to flirt with sonic experimentation, a disastrous affair can brew when the flirtation results in a body of work that is far more two-dimensional and hollow than what the band have proven capable of doing through their decades of previous work.
Weezer's Black Album resumes the band's nosedive.
Perhaps, sadly, the most damning criticism one can make of Weezer here is that they sound boring.
It's strange that he seems intent on employing modern pop and hip-hop cliches for little purpose apart from trolling.
Whilst it is undeniably their most experimental work, the record listens like an audio representation of Theresa May’s awkward robot-like dancing – confused, cringingly uncomfortable and desperately out of touch.
Weezer's latest is an utterly skippable collection that'd be entirely unremarkable if not for the fact it was released by Weezer. Better luck next time, Rivers.
With The Black Album, Weezer tries to experiment with different sounds, only to achieve results that are staler than before - and of course, bumbling lyrics that are as dorky than anything they’ve ever written.
Weezer's Black Album shrinks to the low ambition of phoned-in karaoke over plastic keyboard preloads.
Their sixth self-titled album is a new low, even by their comically slack standards.
Rivers the type of guy to swear on a track and then go to the confessional booth at church to repent to whatever anime waifu he’s currently worshipping.
Y'all, stop giving one line reviews the top comment. My quip wasn't even that funny wtf. That said, no deep fried memes came out of this so I'm here to torture you with a review instead.
So guess who knew this was going to be bad from day one...that's right THIS GUY! You might be thinking "but Gav, that's not so hard to do" but this album actually has some history to it. I feel context is key for this one so buckle up for some WEEZY HISTORY.
This album was actually announced three ... read more
Oh. My. God. High as a kite and Living in LA could be really good with their normal sound but the mixing and sound on this album is not good.
1 | Can't Knock the Hustle 3:41 | 65 |
2 | Zombie Bastards 4:11 | 54 |
3 | High As a Kite 3:48 | 79 |
4 | Living In L.A. 3:38 | 52 |
5 | Piece of Cake 3:17 | 36 |
6 | I’m Just Being Honest 3:57 | 55 |
7 | Too Many Thoughts In My Head 4:03 | 45 |
8 | The Prince Who Wanted Everything 3:23 | 27 |
9 | Byzantine 4:09 | 46 |
10 | California Snow 3:32 | 49 |
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