April 25, 2002
Pure pop perfection

CALGARY -- Let's get it out there.

Of course, music critics -- as do all critics, for that matter -- have their biases.

And the job, as difficult as it might be at times, is to see past those likes and dislikes to judge a show or an album or a band on its own merits.

Unfortunately, in the case of Weezer, who performed last night at the Stampede Corral, all appearances of being unbiased are forgone.

They are one of the five best rock bands in the world.

They are responsible for most of the finest American power pop of the past decade.

They are one of my favourite bands.

Add Pete Yorn into the mix as an opening act -- the man whose debut CD, Musicforthemorningafter, was the best album released last year -- and you'll understand why I drove to Edmonton on Tuesday night for the Dusty West Tour's kickoff show -- having all of the above three points about the L.A. quartet confirmed and reconfirmed in the process.

And then last night in front of approximately 4,500 other people, it was re-, re-, reconfirmed.

In a word, Weezer were genius.

Why?

Well ... they just were because they are.

During the course of their 90-minute set (the relatively short length of which being the only possible complaint one could have), the band delivered powered-up, sugar-fortified versions of songs from their three records, as well as a couple from the forthcoming Maladroit album, and one apparently from another disc they're currently recording.

The stage show, which featured a checkerboard backdrop of multi-coloured lighting screens, smoke, and the band's Van Halen-esque "W" logo, wasn't terribly spectacular.

And except maybe for new Hanson brotherish bassist, Scott Shriner, Weezer themselves aren't the most animated lot.

On stage, singer-songwriter Rivers Cuomo is far from an enigmatic frontman, eschewing the role of rock ringleader for the band concept.

Banter was brief and used mainly to kill time during guitar changes or the technical glitches that plagued both shows.

But all of that, every single bit of that is forgiven away because of the songs -- getting to hear them, getting to see them.

My Name Is Jonas, Undone (The Sweater Song), Tired of Sex, The Good Life, Island in the Sun -- there wasn't a single unmelodic dud on the set-list.

If you weren't standing maw agape from the harmonizing, if you didn't find yourself wanting to pogo to Surf Wax America, if you didn't get shivers shimmying along your spine during the opening notes of Jonas, and if you weren't singing along to that beautiful track or Undone, or any one of the songs for that matter -- then your heart is cold, dark, and dead, and this world no longer requires your services.

Of course, that's just one man's (biased) opinion.

As for Pete Yorn, he couldn't have been cooler during one of the best opening sets I have ever seen.

Though the dishevelled New Joisey boy wasn't a show-stealer -- he and his band were far too laid-back for that -- his equally too-brief 45 minutes on stage gave a good glimpse of the man who could save indie rock. Not surprisingly, all of the tunes he and his four-piece band played from his debut, as well as magnificent covers of The Smiths Panic and David Bowie's China Girl, translated exceptionally well live.

Great guitar rock songs, with natural, unassumingly clever lyrics delivered with unforced, endearing charm by a musician whose likability is off the charts.

Even robbed of his subtlety by the bigness of the venue, Yorn and his songs lost none of their power.

AM Radio, the band given the honour of opening the show, wasn't without its own charms. It's a fairly decent pop rock band, that faltered only when the frontman gave in to his Brit pop leanings, going a little too over-the-top (throwing a handful of sparkles, for instance) for a relatively unheard-of band that's the first on a bill of three. (More on Weezer)