Decision made: Weezer is the most impactful LP of 1994, and probably the 90s. Twenty-two years ago, on May 10, 1994, a bunch of sweater-donning dweebs got together and released their self-titled debut album. Weezer — affectionately dubbed The Blue Album for its cover—introduced the world to power chord pop punk and teen earnestness, effectively making uncool look really 'effin' cool. Spike Jonze' "Buddy Holly" video was in direct contrast to Nirvana's "In Bloom," which effectively portrayed how ridiculous Nirvana would be for an audience of teens in the Eisenhower era. Weezer, conversely, look like a Wisconsin teen quartet that plays sock hops and Bar Mitvahs and fit right in in a sweater and loafers at Arnold's. That said, that geeky cool plays off as modern as Monica Lewinsky's blue dress on "Undone; The Sweater Song," a hipster anthem written before most hipsters were born. I know I show my age when I tout "Bennie and the Jets" or "Ventura Highway," but here, not in the 70s and not The Beatles and not "How Soon is Now" and not even "Love Will Tear Us Apart" — this is the best single ever. At least while you're listening to it, you know, until you're not high any longer.
In an interesting reversal of this multifaceted emotional
outpouring, tracks like "Surf Wax America," "In the Garage," and "Holiday" encourage solace through escapism, whether by spending a day at the beach,
playing guitar and Dungeons and Dragons in the garage, or setting off in search
of some idyllic wonderland far, far away. The prime example of this — as
well as the inarguable opus of the record — is the eight minute giant and
closer "Only In Dreams," a musical and lyrical roller coaster filled with
melancholy, pining, and hopeful possibility. The tender track opens with a
simple but unforgettable bass line, followed by a slow layering of drums,
acoustic and electric guitar, and finally vocals. "You can’t resist her/ She's
in your bones,/ She is your marrow/ And your ride home" Cuomo sings, opening
the track with the sort of mythologizing that happens when you're first falling
in love. The song itself follows suit, becoming its own mythology as guitar
lines intertwine in a dynamic call and response, with bass and drums propelling
the tempo and tension forward, resulting in a tremendous and unforgettable
climax. And of course, in an internet outburst he'll never live down, Cuomo
referred to the song as "Gay, Gay, Disneygay," as funny as the song itself.
