The album opens with a sequence of four ironic, self-aware songs that lay out Weezer’s opulent history. “Troublemaker” and “Pork and Beans,” the albums third and first singles, respectively, are the kind of catchy, crunchy tunes that you may have found in either of the band’s earlier self-titled efforts, the first track sounding more like 1994’s Weezer and the latter more like 2001’s Weezer. The quartet reaches its high point with “The Greatest Man that Ever Lived (Variations on a Shaker Hymn),” the album’s most inventive track, and its low point in “Heart Songs,” a schmaltzy shout-out to the artists that got Cuomo interested in music. The song is saved, though, by its final verse, which pays homage to Nirvana’s Nevermind.

As Weezer has gotten older, their songs have veered away from the in-the-moment, emotionally driven lyrics and more towards nostalgia, as evidenced by “Everybody Get Dangerous” and “Dreamin’,” two songs about youth sung from the adult perspective. “Dangerous” is a wonderful instrumental callback to the band’s halcyon days. The three penultimate tracks, meanwhile, feature the supporting players in Weezer, giving a lead singing role to Brian Bell, Scott Shriner and dutiful percussionist Patrick Wilson. While not archetypically Weezer-like, the songs represent a new creative direction for the band that could yield great results in the future.

As I sit here, listening to “In the Garage,” I realize that Weezer is unlikely to release anything as groundbreaking or clever as their first two albums. Lyrically, the red version of Weezer is no great achievement, and it will do little to convince the Pinkerton purists that Weezer has returned to form. But for those of us who have enjoyed the band through thick and thin, the new album will provide plenty of chances to sing along to some above-average rock.

Rating: * * * ½ of 5

Edit: Whoops, looks like they aren’t allowing embedding. Here’s the link.

The addictive qualities of the game transfer just fine between store and home. I spent upwards of 5 hours with the game the first day I got it, quickly beating the career path on easy mode and quickly switching to free play to perfect the songs on which I had tripped up. I’ve since beaten the medium career mode and am terrified to make my way up to hard.

Your experience with Guitar Hero will rely heavily on your affinity for the track listing, and Legends of Rock puts together a nice mix of fun, poppy songs and more technical work. I bought the game for Weezer’s “My Name is Jonas” and Tenacious D’s “The Metal;” both are a combination of the two categories. I have to say, though, that I prefer songs that are just as fun to listen to as to play, and so tracks from Pat Benetar, Heart, the Killers, Guns ‘N Roses and ZZ Top are more interesting than those by Slayer and White Zombie. The heavier songs, naturally, are towards the top of the ladder in career mode, and so finishing it becomes more tedious as you begin to come across songs you don’t know and have no inclination to play.

One of the very cool features of the game is the boss battles, in which you play against Rage Against the Machine’s Tom Morello and GNR’s Slash to earn the right to play their songs and Lou (the devil) to beat the game. The difficulty of the first two battles seems switched, and so it’s annoying to try to beat Morello just to play “Bulls on Parade.”

The very best part of the game, though, is the guitar, which connects to the Wii remote and feels completely natural and sturdy, ready for your hardest rocking.

With great gameplay and an overall solid track listing, Legends of Rock is a worthy addition to a name that has become synonymous with video game success. I can’t speak for longtime players, but as a newbie, it’s additively fun and already has me licking my chops for new releases.

In many cases, the songs on Magic are as close a return to form as you could expect from a man pushing 60. “Radio Nowhere,” the first single, is an amped-up arena rocker that sees Springsteen pulling out all the stops and “Livin’ in the Future,” kicked off by Clarence Clemons’ brilliant tenor sax, leaves your wistful for the Jersey Shore in the “Born to Run” era.

Magic succeeds over The Rising largely due to its embrace of the classic Springsteen formula: warm, anthemic numbers that transfer flawlessly over generations. The sunny, slickly produced “Girls in Their Summer Clothes,” sees the Boss looking back to his younger days and recollecting his hometown as well as he did in the ’70s. At other times, like in the underwhelming “You’ll Be Coming Down” and the unremarkable “Your Own Worst Enemy,” Bruce’s age shows in his lack of enthusiasm for musical arrangement.

Ever the activist, Springsteen does get political during Magic, some times more heavy-handedly than others. “Last to Die,” a blatant rally against the Vietnam War, is clumsy compared to the brilliant “Born in the U.S.A.” – the latter is so compelling, in fact, that Springsteen shouldn’t feel the need to replicate it. On the other hand, the sparse title track is a lyrically mature, nicely masked tale about political trickery.

Magic isn’t a time machine back to Springsteen’s best stuff, and there are few songs on the album that will be marked as classics (The Rising’s “My City Of Ruins” ranks among my favorites despite the album’s overall weaknesses). Still, this is good Bruce, and good Bruce is better than most of what you’ll hear on the air.

Rating: * * * * of 5

As if in defiance of its title, Under the Blacklight sees the band stepping out of the metaphorical basement and into a brightly lit dance hall. Sennett creates addicting guitar riffs as he leads the opening tracks “Silver Lining” and “Close Call.” The first single, “The Moneymaker,” and its immediate follower “Breakin’ Up” are irresistibly catchy pop numbers; the former may take some time to grow on you but it most certainly will. The latter, a disco-inspired romp, highlights Lewis’ backup singers, a high point with the Watson twins on Rabbit Fur Coat. “Smoke Detector,” likewise, combines Lewis’ cute, unique voice with the backup singers in a kitschy dance number.

The soulful, twangy “15,” a tale of underage Internet relations, is reminiscent of Lewis’ solo project, and “The Angles Hung Around” and “Give A Little Love” are closer to Rilo Kiley’s lo-fi roots, making the tracks stick out on this decidedly slicker production. This should please longtime Kiley fans, as the songs are quality and may help in the journey of warming to this new sound.

The album becomes unsavory at times, as Sennett speak-sings through the nearly comatose “Dreamworld” and Lewis explores a Spanish flavor with the unnecessary “Dejalo.” But the overall caliber of the album keeps it from sagging too much, and Rilo Kiley ultimately emerge from an experimental album better for the journey.

Rating: * * * * of 5

On his second major-label release, Some Mad Hope, Nathanson once again puts a fresh spin on the role of the archetypal pop rocker. As he once quipped in concert, his songs are about a bad relationship here, a bad relationship there, sex every so often, and a bad relationship thrown in for good measure. He packs the album with that same emotional weight. In the opener and first single, “Car Crash,” he readies himself to put everything on the line but welcomes the hit he’ll take for it. “Wedding Dress,” a song made beautiful by the simplicity of the acoustic guitar that backs the verses, confronts the enduring love of a marriage with perpetual jealousy and discomfort towards commitment.

Though he is rightfully extolled for his solo concerts, Nathanson shines when backed by a full band. The second most radio-ready song on the album is “To the Beat of Our Noisy Hearts,” a driving, singable song that begs to be a summer anthem. “Detroit Waves” is electric, calling you to bring the radio up to 11, roll the windows down, and very likely disobey the speed limit. Likewise, “Gone,” presented as an unedited live in-studio recording, will not disappoint. In more intimate moments – “Come on Get Higher” and the album’s closing tracks, “Sooner Surrender” and “All We Are” – Nathanson’s often breathy tenor deftly leaps from full voice to falsetto, painting nicely over more muted instruments.

For anyone who has followed Nathanson for any period of time extending before the release of this album on August 14, asking whether Some Mad Hope is his best album is like asking to choose a favorite child. I found myself listening to Beneath These Fireworks after a few weeks of listening to Some Mad Hope nonstop, and I feel like the former is a stronger album beginning to end, even though the latter has better individual songs.

Nonetheless, Nathanson has offered an album so solid, so addicting, so enduring on repeat listens that will quickly become the soundtrack of your late summer. Whether you’re cleaning around the house or lying on the beach, ending a relationship or pining over new love, Some Mad Hope will stay with you.

Rating: * * * * of 5

Note: This review originally ran on Blogcritics.org nearly two months ago.

Special P.S.: Some Mad Hope will be streaming on VH1’s The Leak in its entirety all week, beginning at some point today.

At least, that is, before Matt Nathanson came to town.

When I went to Nathanson’s concert at the TLA last year, I was still new to his music; since then, I’ve become something of an obsessive fan. I recently begged his new record label, Vanguard, to send me a copy of his forthcoming album Some Mad Hope for review on Blogcritics.org (I’ll put that up here later this week), and I have spent hours on his fan sites, downloading taped concerts and becoming more familiar with his catalog.

Friday’s concert was made up entirely of track from the new album, all of which sound spectacular live. Nathanson even managed to slip in some of his trademark humor, cleaned up for the public airwaves. He was very complimentary to the audience, WXPN, and Philadelphia in general. After the concert, he held a meet and greet where he spoke to every person in a relatively long line. When I met him, he was very genuine and nice; traits that are always good to have when you’re a small artist building a fan base.

NPR is streaming the concert here. If you’re familiar with my voice, you can definitely hear my voice just before Nathanson plays “Detroit Waves.” I am one of the people who “woo” when he says the song is about Detroit, because I know what the song is. I also took about 100 pictures of the show, 25 of which were good enough to post on Flickr.

Friday night I spent some time with the folks from A List of Things Thrown Five Minutes ago, attending a 1776 sing-along and blogger after-party at Lucy’s Hat Shop (my suggestion). All in all, it was perhaps the best Friday I’ve had in a long time.

Full explanation to follow, but suffice to say that this autograph pretty much guarantees that I’m having a spectacular birthday weekend.

While you’re waiting for an explanation, why not check out the rest of this photo set on my Flickr page?

The album beings with “Run,” a track with Springsteen-esque percussion, guitars, and lyrics. Kweller laments his scattershot career but says that a girl has helped make it worthwhile: “Since fifteen, I have ran / Everywhere you can run / But with you, it’s much more fun / So let’s run.” He echoes the theme on “I Gotta Move” and “Penny on the Train Track,” the latter a wonderfully paced track that makes it feel like a train is bearing down on the end of the song.

It seems a bit disingenuous that Kweller feels this kind of restlessness at such a young age and after some modest successes, but again on “Run,” he asserts that the best is yet to come for him, singing “I’m not done with my traveling / So let’s run.”

The focal point of the album is “Thirteen,” made so by its placement at the dead center of the album and the unusual, chorus-free arrangement. Again, if this is Kweller’s Born to Run, this is his “Thunder Road,” and not just because of the eerie harmonica solo between two verses. It’s a masterful piece of storytelling. “It was in the back of a taxi /When you told me you loved me / And that I wasn’t alone,” the song ends.

Kweller sprinkles the album with some simple pop numbers, notably the sunny “Sundress.” The somewhat lazy “Magic” is not one of his better songwriting efforts and really marks the point in the album where Kweller starts to run out of momentum. “Red Eye” has one great lyric in it — “How long will it take / ‘Til I can have your heart to break?” — but is nothing compared to the top half of the album.

Ben Kweller combines the better aspects of each of the songwriter’s previous two releases: the fun pop sound of Sha Sha and the maturity of On My Way. He still hasn’t found his perfect album yet, but by looking back, he should recognize that he’s closer than he might imagine.

The Else isn’t very good.

It starts out promising, with the catchy “I’m Impressed,” an up-tempo, vaguely political song about following an unnamed primate of a leader. Following that is “Take Out the Trash,” a grungy plea for a girl to dump her lazy lothario of a boyfriend. The song doesn’t seem to plead for this woman to date either of the Johns that make up TMBG, but it has a winsome charm that’s appealing.

You might imagine the song quality on The Else as a reverse bell curve, because after the first two tracks, the good quickly drops out. The band is known for its lyrical silliness, but their better songs have a good, discernable message beneath it all. From “Upside Down Frown” to “Careful What You Pack” and “Bee of the Bird of the Moth,” though, the Giants come up remarkably small, their instrumentation clangy and lyrics too enigmatic to even be bothered with. It feels neither innovative nor very much fun. A few departures from the quality of the earlier cuts might be forgivable, but the weakness here is consecutive and takes up more than half the length of the album.

The curve turns upward again, if only briefly, with “Withered Hope,” which makes great use of horns, electric bass, and drums to create chaos among some fine lyrics. “Contrecoup,” meanwhile, is the finest song on the album, with an addictive acoustic hook leading into a sweet story about a brain injury patient whose concussions force him into obsession with his caretaker. After another mistake in “Feign Amnesia,” the album ends on a plateaued middle ground, with “The Mesopotamians,” a Monkees-like song about an unknown band that isn’t great but difficult to dislike (the song, not the band, though I imagine that’s the sentiment anyway).

Several years ago, I tried to argue with my fan girl friend that TMBG as a band was no good, but she convinced me otherwise with the mixed CD of songs that she knew I’d like. There are a few songs on this collection that join that distinction, but the album’s faults outweigh its virtues, and I’m afraid that, when I go to my digital collection of TMBG songs, I’ll bypass this CD and look for, well, something else.

Rating: * * 1/2 of 5

Note: This review was originally posted at Blogcritics.org.