Shiny clean, no scuff-marks production has contributed to the yawn-factor of just about every album since that blue one, but the slick packaging works well here on songs like “Run Away,” which opens faux lo-fi but shifts immediately into full-on Weezerhood.
Other tracks are not nearly so hot. On “Memories,” Rivers Cuomo waxes nostalgic. I could do without it. “Where’s My Sex” is just not really a song in my opinion. Still, a good half of the album rocks my world in the old way Journey does and in a new, slightly more sincere way. The best are songs I can belt out while washing the dishes, and that’s a good thing, because my neighbors are getting tired of my take on “Pink Triangle.”