Weezer: Weezer Black Album (Crush Music/Atlantic}
‘Leave a five-star review, and we’ll leave you one too’, Rivers promises on the subtly critic-bashing opener to Weezer’s 12th studio outing. I have to admit, while I’m tempted by his offer, 1) we don’t use the star rating system, and 2) given Weezer's often volatile changes in quality, I think we can live without the endorsement. Some Weezer devotees will point to The Blue Album and Pinkerton as being the only releases which have held up. While I like a decent portion of their material, post-1996 – Green, Maladroit, Everything Will Be Alright and White– for every release which has captured that charming, nerdy magic which fans adore, there have been records which are cynical or lazy. Whether it’s trashing their humility on Beverly Hills, playing with Lil’ Wayne on Can't Stop Partying or releasing an album of mediocre covers, they often seem incapable of reconciling their desire to be taken seriously with their reputation for being a light-hearted pop act. Make no mistake, Black is far from perfect, yet it may be Weezer's most sincere attempt at embracing a mainstream direction.
Despite being slightly perturbed by the ‘critics get off my back’ message, Can’t Knock The Hustle displays the braggadocious attitude which has repeatedly got Weezer into trouble, executed in a way which is actually amusing. Say what you want to about Reggae influences quickly becoming a worn out trend, hearing Rivers trying to be intimidating, despite knowing how pathetic he sounds, ends up being quite hilarious. Although, if fans were hoping to hear a more fleshed out attempt at self-deprecation, they might fare better with Zombie Bastards - an infectiously catchy anthem with some witty lyricism about the nerd-centric topic of a Zombie Apocalypse. On another note, while the darker tone cited in promotional interviews feels more scattered than cohesive, Piece Of Cake and Too Many Thoughts In My Head, certainly make for mawkish slices of power pop with some acerbically sinister lyrical content. Meanwhile, Byzantine– written with the help of Laura Jane Grace of Against Me – adopts a kind of 50’s style doo-wop feel, in a way which is not too far detached from past tributes to Buddy Holly or the Beach Boys. The high point, if you will pardon the pun, comes with High As A Kite, which bears the hallmarks of that definitive sound, perfected on such classic cuts as My Name Is Jonas or Undone. Ultimately, the positives of Black, demonstrate how well these musicians can write, when bringing to life the creativity which fans know they possess.
Positives sadly out of the way, let’s talk about where Black shows off Weezers ol’ antics of being wacky and becoming a slave to the dreaded meme. First of all, what in the name of all that is righteous, is Living In LA supposed to be? Put simply, the track demonstrates Rivers repeating the same line, verbatim, over a bland and uninspired beat, before lapsing back into his same old spiel about how he can’t get girls to sleep with him (I know that’s about, 99% of Pinkerton’s lyrical content, but at least that had decent music to mask the admittedly questionable messaging). Then we are subject to The Prince Who Wanted Everything. Supposedly intended as a tribute to Prince, Cuomo here reels off a number of clichés and lyrics one might remember from Prince’s greatest hits, while an evidently rushed funk rock riff plays on a loop for two minutes. Finally, we come to California Snow, which has admittedly grown on me significantly since it was released as a single, yet I’m putting listing it as a negative, firstly for its messy and disjointed nature and secondly for the insufferable amount of times Rivers goes "Woo!" from start to finish. Far from being the worst songs in quite a vast and expansive catalog, these are individual bugbears that the album as a listening experience, would be better off without
Overall, I can say without a doubt that I enjoyed the Black Album, yet not to the extent that I will be returning to it in over a year. Make no doubt, this was a record made purely for the fans. Everyone else: Take it or leave it. Indeed, while I have been quite complimentary for the most part, I fail to see Black as anything other than an above average release from a great band, whose overly prolific nature often yields mixed results 6/10
Tim Bowness: Flowers At The Scene (Inside Out)
Equally melancholy and uplifting, Bowness adopts his traits of combining serene synth textures with emotive guitar touches. His solo work as well as his collaborative project with Steven Wilson – No Man, can probably be accurately described as art pop, yet only in the sense of there being no better way of describing the unpredictability and strangeness which he brings to the table. Of course, the frontman barely ever creates everything on his own. In addition to Steve Wilson, he is joined by a string of experimental musicians including Andy Partridge of XTC, Dylan Howe of the Blockheads, Peter Hamill of Van De Graf Generator and Kevin Godley of 10CC. Always markedly dark, the album ruminates on death and heartbreak – difficult themes, which are addressed with maturity, by virtue of a vigilant approach to songwriting.
‘I’m trapped in a fiction, a slave to the facts’ Bowness muses on I Go Deeper as if contemplating the dislocation one can feel in when seminal changes occur in that life, be that falling in love or the death of a close friend. As if paying tribute to that feeling, cutting electric guitar phrases are set across disparate and changing synth patterns, immediately springing creativity. Our opening anthem melts gracefully into The Train That Pulled Away. Opening with the hauntingly ambiguous line: ‘If it didn’t kill you then, you knew it would kill you later’, the listener is forced to reflect on their own impermanence, spurned to remembrance by lively strings which initially seem joyous yet soon grow to adopt a sinister quality. Continuing on the idea of transience, Rainmark contemplates the fleeting nature of life, yet proves infinitely more optimistic here, perhaps enthused by the age-old cliché of how we only get one life, to either savor or squander.
Particularly, Bowness has always been praised for his notable ability to ascribe meaning to triviality. To use a saying coined by him, his writing focuses on ‘Stupid things that mean that the world’. Nowhere is this technique more prevalent than on the innocently composed Not Married Anymore, where he focuses in the guileless things people become obsessed over, especially when made to feel alone: ‘Spaghetti on the floor, the toys, the chaos or the shopping lists’. Our narrator doesn't always require a humble piano ballad to wrench emotion out of mundanity, however. It’s The World adopts a menacing and scarily anxious tone, encompassing startling guitar distortions, strangely hushed vocals, and abrasive synth effects. The subject of such dread? Everyday anxieties and stresses: ‘ the never changing landscapes, and the lover far away, It’s the endless nervous phone calls and the friends who went away, It’s the world that isn't fair’.
Hazpiq: Cepheid (Melancholia Records)
A Symphonic prog metal act hailing from France, Hazpiq display a truly different breed of musicality. Not that the genres I just cited lie outside of the reaches of familiarity, just that their take on the styles is imaginative, strange and perplexing. Upon my initial listen I wasn’t sure if I was truly comfortable with the concoction they create, yet I grew more at ease with the strangeness on display, and I can let you know straight away, that I have become enamored by the trancelike usage of dynamics and emotion across the entire experience. With such a bizarre and vibrant debut here, it is clear that these are progressive act like no other.
A scarily ethereal Xylophone melody begins Trailokya, inspiring quivers to seize my senses. A crushing, straightforward guitar refrain sets in, evolving on the already sinister atmosphere being created. Following this is From Dust– starting off simplistic, we are soon plunged into a sea of expressive atmospherics, perfectly playing with mood and sound to set our emotions racing. Cepheid is gentle and calming, yet also expressly dark and shadowy and morose, beginning subtly yet soon harnessing a wave of noise, in a way which is contrary but by no means erroneous. In fact, moments like Epacate or Aphelion, despite being insatiably dramatic in some senses, are certainly far from being jarring or misplaced. Remember, Cepheid was intended as an album experience, and in this case, that absolutely doesn't imply a list of 9 distinct and unrelated anthems. Every cog in the mechanics, every chapter is there for a reason, to be understood in a particular setting. In that respect, these players do not set a foot wrong throughout.
While you can equate the talents of Simeon, Melody, Lylian, Joseph, and Manuel to being akin to prog or symphonic – and you would certainly not be wrong if you pointed to those genres - I would look even further backward in time to cite classical, or jazz influences. Take a moment like Epacate where every note is precisely perceptible and needed, flaunting an acute sense of skill while showing off an approach to songcrafting, often absent from typical genres, irrespective of complexity. Alternatively, look to Mecaniques Celestes which places particular emphasis on timing, tension, and tempo, beginning softly but rising in intensity, relying largely on fluid transitions and abrupt interruptions to leave its mark – there are the neoclassical elements. I’m aware of my possibly getting a little carried away, a genre correlation does not necessarily imply direct influence, I’m just stressing how through their compositions, Hazpiq creates a tapestry of sounds, styles, and emotions, in a way not typically tried a pop and rock absorbed landscape.
Overall, I cannot say I still fully comprehend the enormity of this album, nor the ambitiousness of these musicians. Undoubtedly, it is a record with lots of nuances and subtleties which I may no pick up until after several listens. The important aspect is that I will be returning. After all, the best music has a way of startling you! 8/10
Lucidity: Oceanum (Self Released)
Within Lucidity’s towering and gigantic sound, vast melodies rise like tidal waves, then settle as if choked by frost. Mood swings douse the listener, as the dynamics ebb and flow with the volatility of a storm. In layman’s terms, this can be aptly described as progressive, yet the type of progressive which is dour, dark and brooding rather than weird or bizarre. Their take on the genre owes a great deal the bleakness embraced by acts in the vein of Opeth, Katatonia or Anathema, yet still occupies its own creative realm, encompassing glints of theatricalism and contemporary metal tendencies. Oceanum acts as a rich and brooding journey into the heart of this quartets ambitions, despite the lurking sense that it will end up being far from the most cohesive material they ever record.
We begin with Surface. A morose guitar passage, accompanied by deep and distant humming sets up the shadowy nature, with which Lucidity hone their style. Almost as if a curtain has risen on a theatrical production, we are soon met with an upsurge of dramatics encompassing a stirring lead solo, morose keyboards, and precise drumming, causing a blackened feeling to encircle. Phojosaho’s clean vocals are almost as striking tense as his guttural growls. Subsequently, we are witness to Unveiled, where the melodies, despite being loose and dissonant, are no less gripping or tenacious. Scotoma follows with its low and contemplative mood offering some respite from the melancholic chaos of the openers, and while it finally climes towards an ambitious crescendo, the anthem never loses its sense of sombreness.
‘Leave a five-star review, and we’ll leave you one too’, Rivers promises on the subtly critic-bashing opener to Weezer’s 12th studio outing. I have to admit, while I’m tempted by his offer, 1) we don’t use the star rating system, and 2) given Weezer's often volatile changes in quality, I think we can live without the endorsement. Some Weezer devotees will point to The Blue Album and Pinkerton as being the only releases which have held up. While I like a decent portion of their material, post-1996 – Green, Maladroit, Everything Will Be Alright and White– for every release which has captured that charming, nerdy magic which fans adore, there have been records which are cynical or lazy. Whether it’s trashing their humility on Beverly Hills, playing with Lil’ Wayne on Can't Stop Partying or releasing an album of mediocre covers, they often seem incapable of reconciling their desire to be taken seriously with their reputation for being a light-hearted pop act. Make no mistake, Black is far from perfect, yet it may be Weezer's most sincere attempt at embracing a mainstream direction.
Despite being slightly perturbed by the ‘critics get off my back’ message, Can’t Knock The Hustle displays the braggadocious attitude which has repeatedly got Weezer into trouble, executed in a way which is actually amusing. Say what you want to about Reggae influences quickly becoming a worn out trend, hearing Rivers trying to be intimidating, despite knowing how pathetic he sounds, ends up being quite hilarious. Although, if fans were hoping to hear a more fleshed out attempt at self-deprecation, they might fare better with Zombie Bastards - an infectiously catchy anthem with some witty lyricism about the nerd-centric topic of a Zombie Apocalypse. On another note, while the darker tone cited in promotional interviews feels more scattered than cohesive, Piece Of Cake and Too Many Thoughts In My Head, certainly make for mawkish slices of power pop with some acerbically sinister lyrical content. Meanwhile, Byzantine– written with the help of Laura Jane Grace of Against Me – adopts a kind of 50’s style doo-wop feel, in a way which is not too far detached from past tributes to Buddy Holly or the Beach Boys. The high point, if you will pardon the pun, comes with High As A Kite, which bears the hallmarks of that definitive sound, perfected on such classic cuts as My Name Is Jonas or Undone. Ultimately, the positives of Black, demonstrate how well these musicians can write, when bringing to life the creativity which fans know they possess.
Positives sadly out of the way, let’s talk about where Black shows off Weezers ol’ antics of being wacky and becoming a slave to the dreaded meme. First of all, what in the name of all that is righteous, is Living In LA supposed to be? Put simply, the track demonstrates Rivers repeating the same line, verbatim, over a bland and uninspired beat, before lapsing back into his same old spiel about how he can’t get girls to sleep with him (I know that’s about, 99% of Pinkerton’s lyrical content, but at least that had decent music to mask the admittedly questionable messaging). Then we are subject to The Prince Who Wanted Everything. Supposedly intended as a tribute to Prince, Cuomo here reels off a number of clichés and lyrics one might remember from Prince’s greatest hits, while an evidently rushed funk rock riff plays on a loop for two minutes. Finally, we come to California Snow, which has admittedly grown on me significantly since it was released as a single, yet I’m putting listing it as a negative, firstly for its messy and disjointed nature and secondly for the insufferable amount of times Rivers goes "Woo!" from start to finish. Far from being the worst songs in quite a vast and expansive catalog, these are individual bugbears that the album as a listening experience, would be better off without
Overall, I can say without a doubt that I enjoyed the Black Album, yet not to the extent that I will be returning to it in over a year. Make no doubt, this was a record made purely for the fans. Everyone else: Take it or leave it. Indeed, while I have been quite complimentary for the most part, I fail to see Black as anything other than an above average release from a great band, whose overly prolific nature often yields mixed results 6/10
Tim Bowness: Flowers At The Scene (Inside Out)
Equally melancholy and uplifting, Bowness adopts his traits of combining serene synth textures with emotive guitar touches. His solo work as well as his collaborative project with Steven Wilson – No Man, can probably be accurately described as art pop, yet only in the sense of there being no better way of describing the unpredictability and strangeness which he brings to the table. Of course, the frontman barely ever creates everything on his own. In addition to Steve Wilson, he is joined by a string of experimental musicians including Andy Partridge of XTC, Dylan Howe of the Blockheads, Peter Hamill of Van De Graf Generator and Kevin Godley of 10CC. Always markedly dark, the album ruminates on death and heartbreak – difficult themes, which are addressed with maturity, by virtue of a vigilant approach to songwriting.
‘I’m trapped in a fiction, a slave to the facts’ Bowness muses on I Go Deeper as if contemplating the dislocation one can feel in when seminal changes occur in that life, be that falling in love or the death of a close friend. As if paying tribute to that feeling, cutting electric guitar phrases are set across disparate and changing synth patterns, immediately springing creativity. Our opening anthem melts gracefully into The Train That Pulled Away. Opening with the hauntingly ambiguous line: ‘If it didn’t kill you then, you knew it would kill you later’, the listener is forced to reflect on their own impermanence, spurned to remembrance by lively strings which initially seem joyous yet soon grow to adopt a sinister quality. Continuing on the idea of transience, Rainmark contemplates the fleeting nature of life, yet proves infinitely more optimistic here, perhaps enthused by the age-old cliché of how we only get one life, to either savor or squander.
Particularly, Bowness has always been praised for his notable ability to ascribe meaning to triviality. To use a saying coined by him, his writing focuses on ‘Stupid things that mean that the world’. Nowhere is this technique more prevalent than on the innocently composed Not Married Anymore, where he focuses in the guileless things people become obsessed over, especially when made to feel alone: ‘Spaghetti on the floor, the toys, the chaos or the shopping lists’. Our narrator doesn't always require a humble piano ballad to wrench emotion out of mundanity, however. It’s The World adopts a menacing and scarily anxious tone, encompassing startling guitar distortions, strangely hushed vocals, and abrasive synth effects. The subject of such dread? Everyday anxieties and stresses: ‘ the never changing landscapes, and the lover far away, It’s the endless nervous phone calls and the friends who went away, It’s the world that isn't fair’.
Positivity plays into the songwriting as well though, with Borderline proving a simple ballad about how improving one's life means making difficult decisions, and What Lies Here lingering entirely on the simple beauties of pleasures of existing. Nothing is clean cut and there are a multiplicity of ways to interpret the messages of Flowers At The Scene. Such Ambiguity sets imaginations racing, proving how Bowness and the people he surrounds himself with, hone their craft. I don’t get on with every song here, yet every moment feels distinctive and thoughtful. A truly beautiful album, by an endowed musician. 8/10
Hazpiq: Cepheid (Melancholia Records)
A Symphonic prog metal act hailing from France, Hazpiq display a truly different breed of musicality. Not that the genres I just cited lie outside of the reaches of familiarity, just that their take on the styles is imaginative, strange and perplexing. Upon my initial listen I wasn’t sure if I was truly comfortable with the concoction they create, yet I grew more at ease with the strangeness on display, and I can let you know straight away, that I have become enamored by the trancelike usage of dynamics and emotion across the entire experience. With such a bizarre and vibrant debut here, it is clear that these are progressive act like no other.
A scarily ethereal Xylophone melody begins Trailokya, inspiring quivers to seize my senses. A crushing, straightforward guitar refrain sets in, evolving on the already sinister atmosphere being created. Following this is From Dust– starting off simplistic, we are soon plunged into a sea of expressive atmospherics, perfectly playing with mood and sound to set our emotions racing. Cepheid is gentle and calming, yet also expressly dark and shadowy and morose, beginning subtly yet soon harnessing a wave of noise, in a way which is contrary but by no means erroneous. In fact, moments like Epacate or Aphelion, despite being insatiably dramatic in some senses, are certainly far from being jarring or misplaced. Remember, Cepheid was intended as an album experience, and in this case, that absolutely doesn't imply a list of 9 distinct and unrelated anthems. Every cog in the mechanics, every chapter is there for a reason, to be understood in a particular setting. In that respect, these players do not set a foot wrong throughout.
While you can equate the talents of Simeon, Melody, Lylian, Joseph, and Manuel to being akin to prog or symphonic – and you would certainly not be wrong if you pointed to those genres - I would look even further backward in time to cite classical, or jazz influences. Take a moment like Epacate where every note is precisely perceptible and needed, flaunting an acute sense of skill while showing off an approach to songcrafting, often absent from typical genres, irrespective of complexity. Alternatively, look to Mecaniques Celestes which places particular emphasis on timing, tension, and tempo, beginning softly but rising in intensity, relying largely on fluid transitions and abrupt interruptions to leave its mark – there are the neoclassical elements. I’m aware of my possibly getting a little carried away, a genre correlation does not necessarily imply direct influence, I’m just stressing how through their compositions, Hazpiq creates a tapestry of sounds, styles, and emotions, in a way not typically tried a pop and rock absorbed landscape.
Overall, I cannot say I still fully comprehend the enormity of this album, nor the ambitiousness of these musicians. Undoubtedly, it is a record with lots of nuances and subtleties which I may no pick up until after several listens. The important aspect is that I will be returning. After all, the best music has a way of startling you! 8/10
Lucidity: Oceanum (Self Released)
Within Lucidity’s towering and gigantic sound, vast melodies rise like tidal waves, then settle as if choked by frost. Mood swings douse the listener, as the dynamics ebb and flow with the volatility of a storm. In layman’s terms, this can be aptly described as progressive, yet the type of progressive which is dour, dark and brooding rather than weird or bizarre. Their take on the genre owes a great deal the bleakness embraced by acts in the vein of Opeth, Katatonia or Anathema, yet still occupies its own creative realm, encompassing glints of theatricalism and contemporary metal tendencies. Oceanum acts as a rich and brooding journey into the heart of this quartets ambitions, despite the lurking sense that it will end up being far from the most cohesive material they ever record.
We begin with Surface. A morose guitar passage, accompanied by deep and distant humming sets up the shadowy nature, with which Lucidity hone their style. Almost as if a curtain has risen on a theatrical production, we are soon met with an upsurge of dramatics encompassing a stirring lead solo, morose keyboards, and precise drumming, causing a blackened feeling to encircle. Phojosaho’s clean vocals are almost as striking tense as his guttural growls. Subsequently, we are witness to Unveiled, where the melodies, despite being loose and dissonant, are no less gripping or tenacious. Scotoma follows with its low and contemplative mood offering some respite from the melancholic chaos of the openers, and while it finally climes towards an ambitious crescendo, the anthem never loses its sense of sombreness.
Borders Of Then And Now is one of the strongest moments across the entire eight-track affair, its contrast of different moods and atmospheres creating a sensation of galloping briskly through all the mindsets and emotions one might experience over the course of a long and experienced lifetime. A congregation of instruments and techniques makes for moments which are strangely uplifting and some which are distinctly dejected. The same can be said of closer What If It Hurts?– A haunting and evocative anthem incorporating beautiful melodies, touching acoustics and some wonderfully worked in saxophone touches. Combining all these elements, we are left with an album which is not only somber in tone but plentiful in musical directions, any and all of which Lucidity could take in years to come.
Leaving my analysis on a predictive note, I would say that while there is great potential within Oceanum, I feel the ideas they bring to the table have yet to be fully realized in the future. I would love to see them expand their sound to reflect the genre-defying and unpredictable nature, which this second full-length release strongly hints at. Remember, I started this review by expressing the artists they remind me of. Esteemed acts all of them, who I’m sure any band would be ecstatic to draw a comparison with. However, speaking personally, I look forward to a day when I don’t need to make those observations, appreciating Lucidity wholly for their musical identity! 7/10
Leaving my analysis on a predictive note, I would say that while there is great potential within Oceanum, I feel the ideas they bring to the table have yet to be fully realized in the future. I would love to see them expand their sound to reflect the genre-defying and unpredictable nature, which this second full-length release strongly hints at. Remember, I started this review by expressing the artists they remind me of. Esteemed acts all of them, who I’m sure any band would be ecstatic to draw a comparison with. However, speaking personally, I look forward to a day when I don’t need to make those observations, appreciating Lucidity wholly for their musical identity! 7/10