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boogie boarding U.S.A.
Author: John Soeder (Scene Entertainment Weekly)
Published: July 21, 1994
The songs on Weezer's self-titled first effort aren't always what they seem. Take "Surf Wax America," for example. With its hang-10 chorus - You take your car to work/I'll take my board - and Beach Boy harmonies, this upbeat paean to the stuff that endless summers are made of has all the makings of a surfer anthem.
Too bad the guy who wrote it doesn't even know how to swim.
"I have a boogie board, though," says Rivers Cuomo, Weezer's 24-year-old guitarist, lead singer and principal songwriter. "I've been out in L.A. for a while now, and I'm not much of a beach person at all. I'm pale, and I get bored at the beach really easily. The water is so gross... But the Beach Boys weren't surfers either, except for Dennis."
Cuomo may not be in Brian Wilson's league (yet), but his band - which also includes guitarist Brian Bell, bassist Matt Sharp and drummer Patrick Wilson (no relation) - is definitely in the running for "Debut of the Year." Equal parts punk and post-grunge pop rock, they seem torn between the visceral thrill of cutting loose and a sense of tasteful restraint. To rock or to roll? That is the question.
Above all that tension, Cuomo distills telling details from the everyday hum-drum, lending an epic significance to the simple sentiments behind irresistible ditties like "The World Has Turned And Left Me Here," "Undone - The Sweater Song" and "Buddy Holly" - which, of course, has nothing to do with the late, great rocker who sang "Peggy Sue."
"People used to tell me I look like Buddy Holly because I wear these stupid glasses," Cuomo says. "I really look nothing like him. I like some of his songs I've heard on the radio, but I'm not a big Buddy Holly fan or anything. It's just one of those weird lyrics that popped into my head."
Another song, "In The Garage," pays homage to Weezer's inner sanctum, the practice space that Cuomo built in a house he had been sharing with Sharp and Wilson.
"It's our spiritual home," Cuomo explains. "That's where I wrote all the songs. That's where I sleep when we're not on tour. That's where we practiced during our amateur years."
Weezer played out every chance they got, honing their sound while they wallowed in obscurity on the L.A. club scene.
"It seemed to take forever," Cuomo says. "We played at least once a week - cheap shows, any club, any time slot. We just kept playing, and eventually people came."
It paid off. A scant 17 months after their first rehearsal, they were signed by DGC and whisked away to a studio with former Cars frontman Ric Ocasek, who produced Weezer's debut.
"We just sent him our demo tape," Cuomo recalls. "A couple days later, Geffen called and said Ric would be coming to our next rehearsal. We were totally surprised. He was extremely supportive. If we were stuck on something, he'd say, 'Why don't you try some-thing like this?' and sing a little melody or something."
They called themselves Weezer because it was the least stupid-sounding name they could come up with. As far as his own, uh, unusual name is concerned, Cuomo has his mother to thank - or blame.
"The first thing my mom was aware of after I was born was the Manhattan River," he explains for what must be the millionth time. "She was a hippie, so she named me Rivers. It's a really annoying name because it's so hippie-ish, but at least I made out better than my brother. His name is Leaves."
Raised in a small town in rural Connecticut, Cuomo started playing guitar in high school. After graduation, he promptly headed for the West Coast to pursue his dream of becoming a rock star.
"At the time, it seemed like all the cool bands were coming from L.A., so I went there," he recalls. "I went with this terrible heavy metal band from Connecticut. We instantly failed. I kind of picked my life back up, put the pieces together and started writing songs. It never occurred to me to write songs when I was a teenager. I just practiced my scales and stuff. When I got to L.A., I got a job at Tower Records, and they forced me to listen to cool music."
Before long, Cuomo had been turned on to everyone from the Velvet Underground to the Pixies. He was also blown away by the Beach Boys' PET SOUNDS, which had just been reissued.
"PET SOUNDS came out on CD when I was working at Tower," he says. "They played it every morning. At first I was like, 'What's this crazy druggie music?' Eventually, I've come to regard it as the best record ever."
Hearing how it rubbed off on him isn't hard. His own songs are stacked with sunny harmonies, making comparisons between Weezer and the Beach Boys inevitable. Cuomo takes it all in stride.
"People also compare us to Kansas and Queen because of the harmonies," he points out.
Cuomo himself happens to be a reformed metalhead.
"It started out innocently enough with KISS, Twisted Sister and Motley Crue," he says. "Then I got into Metallica and Slayer. After a while, though, it just seemed like all the cool new bands were alternative. Metal got old and stale. I didn't like any of the new metal bands, and the old ones just suck now. As I got older, I also started questioning some of the lyrics - what is Bruce Dickinson singing about and how does it apply to my life?"
Lyrics have come to mean a lot to Cuomo, who is currently writing songs for Weezer's second album. Before they head back to the studio, however, they're hitting the road. They will open for Lush at the Odeon this Wednesday, July 27.
"I just want to write songs that honestly express how I feel and make them sound really good on a format that you can listen to in your home," he says. "I promise I'll never make an album unless I have at least 10 great songs." His advice to aspiring rock and rollers?
"Cut your hair," he says. "Stop practicing guitar, try to write some songs, go to the city and get your ass kicked.
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