Few things make me as happy as listening to Weezer’s Pinkerton in bed with the sheets thrown over my body, which is the only way to listen to Weezer’s Pinkerton. “In my blanket fort, it’s like Make Believe and Hurley and Raditude don’t exist!” Sigh, if only. At least they can’t take away our Blue Album and Pinkerton and Maladroit, and that bands still want to sound as covered in blissful mid-tempo distortion as Rivers used to want to. Bands like Hurry.
The Philly group’s “Oh, Whitney” is as refreshing as a fuzzed-out drink in a Death to False Metal desert.
