[Review] Weezer (1994)
Flannel is out, bowling shirts are in, in this cross between Teenage Fanclub and nerdvana.
Flannel is out, bowling shirts are in, in this cross between Teenage Fanclub and nerdvana.
Finally, a fitting companion to those Ween discs at the end of your record collection.
A song so good that Microsoft decided to use it for global mind control. Conspiracy theorists, discuss among yourselves.
Rivers Cuomo’s ugly-duckling ode to rock-star loneliness becomes the beautiful swan of the new century.
28 minutes of pure power-pop joy that made the last five years melt away like ice cream in the sun.
What better way to promote Weezer’s new album than a song about drugs and transvestite prostitutes?