Awkward indie kids playing 60's inspired uber-harmonised pop about their insecurities all through a Marshall stack? Sign me up. How do you deliver such carefully crafted and nuanced, almost kitsch, tunes with such ferocity? From the perfect fuzz drenched power pop opener to the impassioned wailing of the closer, this album has it all. We bob our collective heads to each track while getting neck deep in the history of the band, the recording of this album, and the subsequent struggles of Mr. Rivers Cuomo. We also spend a good amount of time explaining the importance of being Matt Sharp, as Weezer were never quite the same (i.e. good) since his departure.  Little known fact: if you don't like this record, you hate guitars. Also, stick around for the sing-a-long.