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An Open Letter to Weezer

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An Open Letter to Weezer

Jessica McKinney

Weezer used to make me smile.

Dear Rivers Cuomo, Brian Bell, Pat Wilson and Scott Shriner aka Weezer,

It is with long-awaited elation and unprecedented eagerness that I write to you four gentlemen. You may not know it, but the five of us, well, let’s be clear – the four of us. No offense Scott, but my love affair with the band began in the glory of days of Matt Sharp era Weezer. You’re a great fit for the band now, but back then, Matt was a large part of my giddy, schoolgirl crush on you gentlemen. At any rate, I’m writing to simply say a premature thank you for finally putting together the tour of a lifetime for a Weezer mega-fan like myself and in a little over 24 hours I’ll feast my ears on the Memories Tour when it pulls into New York’s Roseland Ballroom.

Let’s rewind a bit though as our relationship hasn’t always been sunshine and roses. It began hot and heavy one summer afternoon in 1994 at the Clearfield Mall, in my hometown of the same name, minus the mall of course, when I purchased your first album, which coincidentally was the same day I purchased Green Day’s Dookie. It was an epic day; one I’ll never forget as those albums helped shape my musical taste and thirst for discovery for years to come.

September 24, 1996 was another big day for us. Well, for you it was a colossal day as it marked the release of your follow up to the Blue Album. Being the lone mega-fan in the county, I ditched school and returned to the mall where I waited for the doors to open to National Record Mart so I could be the first person in town to hear Pinkerton in its entirety. It completely blew me away. From that moment on, I was hooked.

Once I turned 18 it was time for school and thankfully New York University answered my call and invited me to study in the greatest place on earth for an 18-year-old redneck kid with a lot to learn. When a couple of high school friends visited early in 2000 we decided to get tattoos at Daredevil on Ludlow Street. My longstanding idea was to get your logo wrapped around my calf and on that cold January afternoon that mission was accomplished. We were now bound forever.

Maybe the ink was a bad idea or some sort of indicator that our relationship had hit its peak because the next decade was pretty rocky. After a few year hiatus you came back with the Weezer aka the Green Album, which was a decent offering for those of us wondering what all those new songs you were playing on the Warped Tour were.  I followed you around the northeast on your Yahoo! Outloud Tour and came out of each show distraut due to the lack of attention Pinkerton received on your set list.

Disappointment marked the next few years as you churned out forgettable album after forgettable album. There was the attempt at playful metal experimentation with Maladroit, the attempt to cater more to the with Make Believe and an attempt to join your frustrated fans in the margins with The Red Album, (I can't give time to Raditude simply because its called Raditude). All of them felt like misses to a guy who now hides his branded leg with high socks and tight jeans. I all but threw in the towel when seeing a live show where Rivers passed his singing duties off to other members in the band. No offense to you other guys, but hearing the “Sweater Song” sung by anyone but Rivers is like watching a baseball game where only the pitchers take at bats.

Over a year had passed since that debacle at Merriweather Post Pavilion when I heard the news of the Memories Tour. Finally, Weezer is stepping up and being the band I’ve always needed them to be. No more dipping your toes in other genres. No more passing the microphone. No more avoidance of the songs that shaped the most crucial part of my life. The band is playing the Blue Album in its entirety on December 17 and Pinkerton on December 18 and you better believe I’ll be there because every good breakup deservers a chance to make up. I’m even considering wearing shorts.

Sincerely,

Jay Belin

P.S. Rivers, you were jerk when I approached you and told you about my tattoo at American University in 2001. I might punch you in the arm if given the chance, but if you guys deliver this weekend all will be forgiven.

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