DRUNKENWEREWOLF

Maladroit sits in a funny place in my adoration of Weezer. They were my first musical love. A band that could produce three (almost) perfect albums; a band that I want to know everything about; a band that sounded like my brain on record. This album was a bit of a side track.

Maladroit came out a month or so after I first saw them live at Brixton Academy, still one of the best shows I’ve been to. I was on a bit of a high from the gig and I remember enjoying every moment of the album immensely. It had everything that made The Blue Album, Pinkerton and The Green Album so good. Massive choruses, inventive guitar parts and a sense of fun. And it fucking rocked. This was Weezer as a 80s heavy metal band. The chugging chords (“Take Control”), the wailing guitar solos (“Fall Together”) and the aggression. It was the most ballsy Weezer have sounded on record.

I think this may have been one of the reasons why a lot of Weezer fans had initial reservations about Maladroit. Tracks like “Take Control” and “American Gigolo” didn’t sound like the Weezer of old. I don’t think River’s rapping on the latter helped their cause – this vocal delivery style is also heard on the amazing album 5 demo “Mo Beats”. I would also say Maladroit was the beginning of the end for Weezer. Whereas, on the supreme The Blue Album and the even better Pinkerton, River Cuomo’s lyrics felt personal, but also universal, here (and at times on The Green Album) he seemed to be talking nonsense, or was just using words that rhymed , with no thought to the emotional impact. There were definite signs of the frat boy, partying Weezer that would release the painful Raditude and Hurley later in their career, which isolated the thick-rimmed glasses wearing proportion of their crowd.

There are still moments of where the good old Weezer seeped through. “Keep Fishing” is a classic Weezer. More remembered now for its Muppets-themed video, it is a tour-de-force of sing-along chorus, pathos and brilliant backing vocals. I really think the backing vocals are one of Weezer’s best assets and the do-wahs in the chorus are no exception. “Slob” features some of the more impassioned vocals on the album. Rivers sounds in pain throughout and the nostalgic line “And I drank some of granddaddy’s beer” still hits a nerve with me every time I hear it. Another positive about the album was that the awesome guitar solos were back. 2001’s The Green Album is pure pop rock perfection but its minimal guitar solos were a big let-down after the highs of “Tired of Sex” or “Falling For You”. On Maladroit they’re back in full force. “Dope Nose”, “Burndt Jamb” and especially “Fall Together” see Rivers and Brian Bell turn their amps up to 11 and let loose. If Weezer had stuck to their rule of 10 (their first three albums only contained 10 tracks) and Maladroit had finished on crunching riff and solo of “Fall Together”, it may have found more favour with fans.

Due to its slight inconsistencies and incoherence of musical styles (interestingly Maladroit means awkward in French), Maladroit will never be anyone’s favourite Weezer album, but I do think it is their most under-rated.

It’s with immense whimsical fancy that I take a look back at Red Hot Chili Peppers’ eighth studio album. Released in 2002 when I was a mere 11 year old, By the Way was the first CD I ever brought off my own back and with my own money. It thus has a very special place in my heart, instantly reminding me of those heady formative years skipping to the Woolworths on the end of my road, endlessly browsing the (very limited) CD selection.

It was hearing that intro to third single “Can’t Stop” on an older cousin’s stereo that enticed me to take the plunge and spend that week’s pocket money on music and not football stickers. It was, and still is, one of the best decisions I have ever made, forever opening my eyes to an endless journey of musical discovery.

John Frusciante is in a league of his own on this record; his guitar playing, song arrangements and Beach Boys/Beatles backing vocal harmonies are exquisite, while Antony Kiedis’s lyrics are as personal and heartfelt as any he has ever put to tape. At the time of release the wordsmith was two years clean from his well-documented drug demons, but the heavy spectre of addiction and fear of relapse was still towering high over him. Tracks like “Dosed” and “This Is the Place” portray a man that is still very much swept up narcotics and unable to fully shake this shadowy past.

Maybe one of the most interesting (or disappointing depending on outlook) aspects of the record is the relative quietness of enigmatic bass player Flea. Gone is the hip shaking funk low end that came to define the early RHCP sound, instead replaced by a more all round and melodic approach. Rumours have expounded as to why this is the case, with many agree that it’s down to Frusciante taking the creative lead. However the lack of funk bass highlights has seen the album dismissed – in my opinion wrongly – by older, more hardcore fans.

Perhaps the biggest compliment I can pay By the Way is that I still listen to it now, and not from pure nostalgia, simply because it is a great album from start to finish. It is probably the most all round and accessible Red Hot Chili Pepper’s record to date, featuring sing-a-long anthems (“By The Way”, “Can’t Stop”, “Zephyr Song”) and virtuoso musicianship (“Cabron”, “Throw Away Your Television”) while also dealing with deep lyrical subject matter (“Venice Queen”, “Tear”). By the Way will last the test of time and go down as one of the great RHCP records.

The second track on Gemma Hayes’ Night on my Side, the jubilant “Hanging Around”, isn’t a good indication of style. The overwhelming genre of this record is laid back, coffee table acoustic music, a country mile away from the upbeat jolt of said track. Hayes is the closest to Damien Rice that my CD collection (and consequently Compact Discussion) will ever get, but forgivingly she’s not a one trick pony and at the top of her craft. Night on my Side also unveils the electronic zeitgeist in her fingers – a side to her résumé that first and continues to attract me to her music.

There’s a murmur throughout this album that rears its head on the sublime “Let a Good Thing Go” and explodes on “Tear in my Side”. Producer Dave Fridmann really goes to town on “Lucky One (Bird of Cassadaga)”, where the listener becomes fully aware of Hayes’ versatility. The lead up to said song is perhaps not enough to prepare for the barrage of layered sound that unfolds, but it’s a welcomed surprise. It’s like listening to Amy McDonald having an existential crisis on her synth, and it’s no surprise Hayes is an ardent fan of bands like Broken Social Scene.

Though Night on my Side continues to hold a dear place in my heart, over time I’ve come to terms with its inadequacies and its a piece I only revisit on melancholy occasions. Thanks largely to the beauty of Hayes’ follow up work, “Over & Over” unfortunately seems dross and “My God” unnecessary. The lyrics don’t pack the Celtic punch of 2009’s “Oliver” and the vocals, as soothing as ever, are the only aspect to keep the songs above water. Elsewhere singles “Ran for Miles” and “Back of my Hand” survive thanks to familiarity and on “What a Day” I find it hard not to simply skip ahead to the aforementioned “Tear in my Side”.

Part of the beauty of Night in my Side is not specifically Hayes’ song writing, though she’s rightfully a stalwart of her scene, but the unexpected turns and flourishes. They’re what gives the album life and attracts fans from all sides of the map. Fortunately following the release of Night on my Side Hayes paid tribute to her strengths and developed into an amazing talent. Night on my Side shouldn’t be forgotten for that very fact: it’s more than a debut, it’s the beginning of her career.