Ed. Note: Much more on Summer Fest to come throughout the day.
MORE OF SUMMER FEST Reviews: Summer Fest Saturday: A Sizzler With Beirut, Big Boi, Black Joe, Fucked Up, Sharon Jones, Ween & More Summer Fest Sunday: Peak Fun With B L A C K I E, Hayes Carll, Guitar Wolf, Yeasayer, Robert Ellis & More
Weezer Free Press Summer Fest Eleanor Tinsley Park June 5, 2011
For almost two hours on Sunday night, Weezer led a sea of thousands through some of the saddest and happiest times of their lives an their 18-song set of hits from their 19 years of activity. It's hard to do justice to a band that means so much to so many, especially one that acted like a Band-Aid to those of us with fragile yet huge hearts.
If the Flaming Lips at last year's Summer Fest turned Houston into a loving glowing orb in the hands of Wayne Coyne, Weezer's set shoved us all into the pop-brain of lead singer Rivers Cuomo, back into your old teen bedroom for some real talk surrounded by your closest friends.
Weezer first came around at a time most of today's late twentysomethings were just forming their emotional temperatures. 1994's "Blue Album" hit us with ten straight songs, all of which could have made singles in their own right, even operatic closer "Only In Dreams," which - with a few edits - could have been the jilted romantic modern-rock radio equivalent of "Stairway To Heaven" for kids in hoodies that seem to guard them from the vicious world.
The follow-up, 1996's Pinkerton, was the Sgt. Pepper of Gen-Y heartache; the album that you loved at first listen, but as your life got weirder and the ones that you wanted to love and to love you back grew distant, or become more ever more nonexistent, turned into a hulking, tear-stained beast. It didn't matter that the album was about a damned half-Japanese girl, or Madame Butterfly. For fans, it was about them personally. It soundtracked your confusion.
After a hiatus and 2000's comeback, Weezer went to work on solidifying how great those two albums were with a collection of albums that kept making us long for them. It's almost scientific. Older fans scoff that they peaked at Pinkerton, and that what they sing in the 21st century means nothing to them. Everyone else doesn't care as long it has a good beat you can tap on your steering wheel to.
So in a sense Weezer turns into that unattainable boy or girl that you can't pin down, that made you love the band in the first place. You were married in your mind to Weezer, but married in your mind is no good. You've spent years remembering that one lost night, weekend or year, and that's all you have is memories.
It takes balls to open a set with the unassuming "Undone (The Sweater Song)" like Weezer did Sunday night. The set list that followed was seemingly tailor-made for every hater that accumulated over social media the past few months since Weezer was announced as headliners.