I felt like this concert was made just for me. We got there at about 4 p.m. to avoid all the crap bands.
The Airborne Toxic Event and Silversun Pickups rocked hard. Loved them both. It's too bad the crowd didn't really appreciate them as much as they deserved. You can see my videos of them here.
And this time I was not at all disappointed. In fact, I was beyond excited. Elated. Thrilled. Ecstatic. Overjoyed.
Why?
Rivers Cuomo sang every single song! Like he's supposed to! The band was light and happy and goofy perfection -- the antithesis of our October 2008 debacle.
You can see my boatload of vids on Flickr, but I'm going to post two here that you absolutely must watch.
MGMT's "Kids"...Weezer-style!
Rivers Cuomo channels his inner Lady Gaga! Best "Poker Face" ever!
Go here for a much closer and complete version of both -- it was a live mash-up!
I am such a sucker. I am so in love with my band. Again.
We'll see how long it takes for them to disappoint me. Again.
I felt really bad for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. They had to go on after Weezer absolutely killed it. In a matter of seconds, the enormous audience that had just been bouncing up and down for the nerd rock extraordinaires dispersed -- to get more food, to guzzle more beer, to buy some merch. Whatever their reasons were, they missed a powerful performance.
I mean, how can you not love freaky-cool Karen O?
If you don't have the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' new album yet, go get it! Such great stuff! Karen O's voice is like no other. "Zero" is one of my fave songs of 2009.
Jimmy Eat World came on after the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. I adore them, but I had to use the restroom at *some* point, and I'd just seen their Clarity tour in March. There are no breaks during the Weenie Roast, as the stage simply revolves to reveal the next band immediately. When I got back to our seats, Mr. Monkey presented me with a gyro. I noshed as Jimmy sang "The Middle" and "Sweetness." I "whoa-ed" with my mouth full.
Kings of Leon was a crowd-pleaser. A couple of super short clips:
Sex on Fire
Use Somebody
Like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Rancid had the challenge of playing right after a very popular group. The crowds scattered again. They skipped something really special. Rancid is the definition of rad. I was over the moon because they rocked so many of my beloved tracks from ...And Out Come the Wolves, which I played non-stop my sophomore year of college.
Roots Radical
Olympia, WA
Time Bomb
Ruby Soho
We jumped around like crazy people...even though no one else around us was. It's Rancid, people! Rancid! Get up!
And then there was DJ AM and Travis Barker. I-N-S-A-N-E! Incredible! If you don't get the set-up, DJ AM spun all sorts of tracks -- from John Lennon's "Imagine" to Bell Biv Devoe's "Poison" to The Mamas & the Papas' "California Dreamin'" to Rage Against the Machine's "Killing in the Name" to Daft Punk's "One More Time" to Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" -- while Travis Barker tore up the drums accompanying each song. Crazy! I danced for 50 minutes straight! Soooooo fun!
The best part of their set? A surprise appearance by Warren G!
Regulate!
For all of my pics and vids from the day, go here.
As many of you know or may have guessed, I like Weezer. A lot. A whole lot. I've been a fan since 1994. That's 14 years of loyalty.
And it may have come to a bitter end Tuesday night.
I discovered the Blue Album my senior year of high school.
Produced by Ric Ocasek of The Cars, the album housed all sorts of deliciously upbeat melodic gems with an ever-so-slight pinch of angst. I played that album over and over and over again. The unmistakable intro of "My Name of Jonas" always meant a good time was ahead. I fancied myself as the girl from "No One Else." And "Say It Ain't So" felt as anguished as I felt during my teenage years.
The Blue Album sustained me through my freshman year of college, much to the dismay and eventual delight of my roommates. I totally converted one of my roommates. She, too, became a fan -- a true coup, considering she adored crap like Hootie & the Blowfish.
That roommate accompanied me to my first Weezer concert ever in a little club on Lansdowne Street. There I crowd-surfed for the first time to "Surf Wax America."
You take your car to work
I'll take my board
And when you're out of fuel
I'm still afloat
Could there be a better song for this? I crossed my arms over my chest to protect myself from would-be molesters. I kicked some rowdy people in the head as I drifted over scores of strangers' supporting hands. The lyrics weren't earth-shattering, but the music was loud, and I was deliriously happy, cruising on a sea of people.
It was liberating. I was away from home. This was the beginning of my young adulthood. Weezer was my soundtrack. Anthemic.
A long two years later, Pinkerton arrived. I was intrigued by the cover. So Japanese. So not the Blue Album. Then I listened. And I listened again. And again.
Pinkerton indeed was not at all like the Blue Album. Something happened to Rivers Cuomo. Something bad, something sad. Whatever it was, it made the music amazing and poignant. Pinkerton was not the shiny fun and games that comprised much of the Blue Album. And I loved that. I loved Pinkerton almost as much as I loved the Blue Album but in a very different way.
Critics, however, did not agree with my burgeoning quasi-emo self.
After the commercial failure of Pinkerton, I suffered a long new-Weezer-less dry spell. Word had it that Rivers was now at our college, so I thought, "Hmm. Maybe I'll see him on campus, even if he isn't making new music."
And I did.
I saw him walking down Plympton Street every Tuesday and Thursday morning. We passed each other many times. He wore a full beard and donned somewhat shabby-looking clothing. He walked with a slight limp. He looked like a homeless guy.
All those times I saw him, I never said hello. I figured, with that get-up, surely he wanted privacy. I respected that.
But now I really regret being so polite.
Years passed. I graduated from college with only the Blue Album and Pinkerton in my Weezer arsenal. Yet that was enough for me. There was no question that, even with just two albums, Weezer was my favorite band in the whole wide world.
It wasn't until 2001, the year I graduated from law school, that the Green Album debuted.
By this time, original bassist Matt Sharp had left, and Mikey Welsh assumed the role. This disturbed me a bit. I sensed this could be a pivotal point for the band. "Photograph" and "Island in the Sun" were rather delightful, but I wasn't wowed by the rest of the Green Album. I especially detested "Hash Pipe," which was released as a single and lauded by the know-nothing masses. Ugh. This was a pop-infused meaningless mess. This was not the Weezer I knew and loved.
Still, I kept the faith. I continued going to numerous concerts and listening to my first two babies on heavy rotation. Concerts remained a pleasure, even with the additions from the Green Album.
The year 2002 birthed Maladroit.
It made me want to hang myself. Mikey Welsh left the band, and Scott Shriner became the third bassist. I hated and continue to hate this album. Ironically, this tripe was critically acclaimed. Insanity.
Make Believe arrived three years later.
It was an average offering -- better than Maladroit but nothing remotely close to my favorites. In my book, it was perhaps comparable to the Green Album, and I didn't even like the Green Album that much. I was so starved for new Weezer, though, that I ended up adoring "Perfect Situation" and "This Is Such a Pity." It's hard to say whether these are even good tracks, as the best among crap is really still crap.
I couldn't tell what was good and bad anymore.
And now we have the Red Album. Oh, Red Album, where do I begin? In two words: you suck. Ok, maybe that's too simplistic. After Maladroit, I didn't think the band could sink to new depths. But it did.
My main problem with the Red Album is that other members of the band sing. Hearing anyone other than Rivers Cuomo on a Weezer album is like nails on a chalkboard.
It's grating. It's unnatural. It's wrong.
Weezer is not The Beatles. Scott Shriner is not Paul McCartney. Brian Bell is not George Harrison. Pat Wilson is not Ringo Starr.
And even The Beatles knew better than to have Ringo sing excessively.
I liken Weezer to The Cure. The Cure is Robert Smith. Weezer is Rivers Cuomo. Nobody wants to hear anybody in those bands other than Smith and Cuomo. It's not a difficult concept.
Weezer, however, seems not to understand this today or is intent on changing a good thing.
This leads me to the travesty that was Tuesday's concert at The Forum.
Now, I am neither stupid nor unreasonable. I went to Tuesday's concert knowing full well that this was the tour for the horror that is the Red Album. Obviously, the set would showcase those songs. I was ready to sit through all the turds sung by Scott, Brian, and Pat on the Red Album.
The Forum went black. The crowd cheered. My heart filled with bliss when I heard the famous first few bars of "My Name Is Jonas." Then the singing started.
It was fucking Scott Shriner.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to rip my hair out. I wanted to slit my wrists. Vertically. I turned to my brother, and he was just as incredulous and disgruntled. My brother's friend was appalled, too. We were shocked. Angry.
It only got worse from there.
We were completely aghast that Scott sang "My Name Is Jonas," "Perfect Situation," and "Dope Nose," and Brian sang classics like "Susanne" and "El Scorcho." I was especially livid about "Susanne" and "El Scorcho," two of my favorite songs. I dare say that I enjoyed Dashboard Confessional's cover of "El Scorcho" at Rock Band Live on Friday night more than Brian Bell's karaoke version.
That's what it was, really. Karaoke. I didn't pay good money to watch karaoke. And this karaoke was particularly offensive because the real guy who should've sung these songs was standing just a few feet away.
Of course, I hated every single song that Rivers didn't sing. I knew I was going to, and I was ready to weather the Red Album shit. But I wasn't prepared to have my old songs butchered, too.
The worst part of the night was probably Pat's cover of Pink Floyd's "Time." I'm sorry for all the profanity here, but WHAT THE FUCK?! Brother Monkey thought this was a good time to take a bathroom break, as did hundreds of other people.
When I go to a Weezer concert, I do not want to hear the fucking drummer singing Pink Floyd. Can I make this any clearer?
"Undone (The Sweater Song)" was ruined by the guest singing of Angels & Airwaves' Tom DeLonge, and then we had to sit through the ridiculousness of amateur musicians accompanying the band on "Island in the Sun" and "Beverly Hills." I don't even like "Beverly Hills." Trombones, accordions, electric cellos, and maracas made me hate it even more.
Again, I went to see Rivers Cuomo. Rivers Fucking Cuomo. If your name is not Rivers Cuomo, shut your piehole and get off the stage.
Can you feel my rage? Can you? Now imagine it 10 times stronger than what you think it is. Why? Because the thought of at least 75% of the audience thinking this dog-poo of a concert was actually good boiled my blood even more. These people probably didn't even notice that Rivers didn't sing. These people were idiots.
[sigh]
The question now is whether I continue holding out for more greatness, or if I give up after 14 years of loyalty. This is so stupid. But it actually torments me. I don't know if I can handle being any more disappointed than I was Tuesday night.
Very dramatic, yes.
[bigger sigh]
The setlist (starred songs sung solely by Rivers): My Name Is Jonas Pink Triangle* Perfect Situations Say It Ain't So* Susanne Keep Fishin' King Undone (The Sweater Song) Pork and Beans Dope Nose Troublemaker Automatic El Scorcho Time [by Pink Floyd] The Greatest Man That Ever Lived Island in the Sun Beverly Hills Sliver [by Nirvana] Buddy Holly*
Do you see the stars? A measly three stars. Three! Unreal. Argh.
After all this, I owe you some clips, but my clips won't even show you just how awful the concert was because I didn't want to memorialize the mangling.
Here we go....
Pink Triangle. SWOON! Such a rarity that this is performed!
Say It Ain't So. Classic. Weezer at its best.
Susanne. Sung by Brian. I still recorded it because I love this song. It was a B-side that was later featured on the Mallrats album.
Undone (The Sweater Song). This was only amusing because of the trampoline. I fucking hate Tom DeLonge.
The Greatest Man That Ever Lived. I give the band credit for this one. Somehow they pulled this off in concert. Very interesting and impressive, so much so that it merited two clips.
Island in the Sun. Is this Hootenanny nonsense irritating or what?
Buddy Holly. Thank God this was good.
As for the other bands that night, Tokyo Police Club gave an excellent performance. The actual music of Angels & Airwaves was great, but Tom DeLonge's voice remains as terrible and nasal as ever. He also dances like a flamboyant ape who doesn't understand the notion of rhythm.
I don't know what else to say. The concert pained me greatly. It was like a huge Fuck You to longtime fans.
Yes, you read that right. Yes, you are still on WeezerMonkey's blog. I am angry, sad, and bewildered by my beloved band. I don't know if I'll be able to give them yet another chance after tonight. I was really offended by tonight's ridiculously bad performance.
I have many thoughts on this, but they'll have to wait. It's midnight, and I need to go to bed. Gotta rest up for an early morning start tomorrow, so I can make it to the Dodger game.
