Artist: Weezer
Album: Pacific Daydream
Label: Crush Music
Release Date: October 27, 2017
Day Dreamin’
Written by Silas Valentino
Legend has it when Weezer front man Rivers Cuomo attended Harvard in the Nineties following the success of his band’s debut album, he cracked the how-to-write-a-pop-song code. Cuomo claims to have composed, after studying bands like Nirvana, an algorithm (algo-rhythm?) that gobbles up power chords and spits out power pop gold. He admirably defended his thesis with timeless songs like “Island in the Sun” and “Dope Nose” but what the f*ck, Rivers? Where did that golden goose flock to during the winter writing months of the ill-conceived Pacific Daydream, the Los Angeles legend’s 11th album and weakest since the 2010 blunder Hurley.
I guess we (the legion of slobbering –w-eezer fanatics) should be eternally grateful for the last two outings–the satisfying one-two punch of 2014’s Everything Will Be Alright in the End and last year’s self-titled, “White” album; two records that showed a return to form. “I thought that I’d get a new audience/I forgot that Disco sucks/ Maybe I should play the lead guitar and Pat should play the drums” Rivers promised in the 2014 single “Back to the Shack.” However, that parade comes crashing down throughout the bloated, lackadaisical Pacific Daydream.
The chords are crunchy and clamp down to the melody with might but “Mexican Fender” could have been thrown out with the bathwater. Rivers sings about meeting a young Los Angeleno and guitar shopping with her and if this sounds like a stupid narrative to a song then you’re indeed paying attention. “Mexican Fender” can be interpreted as being half-assed: lyrics remain insignificant and the versus are just placeholders but the juice is in the chorus. It’s dazzling power pop extravaganza replete with glittery piano notes, “ooohs” that glide and Rivers remixing an old playground expression into a hook: “Oh, she loves me, she loves me, she loves me not.” But wait–only three petals on that flower you’re plucking, Rivers? “Mexican Fender” would be an ideal radio pop song to comfort a forgettable family-friendly car ride.
And that folks, is what we have here with Pacific Daydream. It’s a toothless album that caters to mindless pop sensibilities–which is fine when done right; this record does manage to sprinkle in plenty of hooks to yank your waning attention back. But it’s tiresome and the same song craft we heard in “Mexican Fender” is repeated throughout.
“Feels like Summer” is a bore, marked by a repetitive and repulsive Imagine Dragons-esque sample, but after that sick puppy trips over the verse she lands on the chorus and it’s as though all sins can be forgiven. Singing the song’s title with soprano glam, Rivers pines for bygone seasons and love. While others pine for a bygone band that gave us guitar licks worth mimicking and lyrics that described inward social anxieties with relatable prose: “If everyone’s a little queer/Can’t she be a little straight?” off 1997’s “Pink Triangle” seems to have echoed into darkness.
“I’m like Stevie Ray Vaughan on the stage high on music,” begins Rivers on the redeemable number “Happy Hour” and these weirdo lyrical observations matched by an irresistible beat by the mysterious producer Oh, Hush! are enough to buoy this glossy mini track above the waters of obscurity, a graveyard where a majority of Pacific Daydream will remain sunken into.
In an interview with the Los Angeles Times in March 2016, Rivers explained that he was already writing what was to become Pacific Daydream while finishing up the “White” album, which was produced by Jake Sinclair. Rivers described how Sinclair pushed for them to make music that would satisfy their longtime and loyal fan base and that’s why the last couple of records have had this “comeback” appeal.
Rivers, however, was over that direction when crafting Pacific Daydream, telling the Times he declared: “Let’s do something radical” for the new album. Unfortunately, they ended up with something closer to the fluffy flub of the forgotten 2009 effort Raditude and what could have been ten new Weezer songs for their ever-evolving collection has just become vacuous space on the record shelf while a little more patience from their hungry fans is tested.