More about: Weezer

And so, the grand idea reaches its conclusion. Weezer’s SZNZ odyssey, comprised of four EPs and 28 songs, is, without doubt, the most indulgent and ambitious project the California four-piece have ever embarked upon. ‘[Weezer’s own] Mellon Collie or The Wall’, according to frontman Rivers Cuomo. And now it’s all over. SZNZ szn is done. 

In the past, when Cuomo has sat down to produce something like this – something high-concept and sprawling – cold feet have set in along the way. Songs from the Black Hole, a 1995 space rock opera, was broken down and reworked into Pinkerton; Ecce Homo, another prospective work of impressive scale, was condensed into 2014’s Everything Will Be Alright in the End. 

For this reason, Weezer fans could be forgiven for believing SZNZ would remain unheard or be suddenly mothballed midway through. But with the arrival of Winter, this double-album – which is how it will no doubt be categorised in the future – stands proudly as a whole, thoroughly complete work. It’s unified, enterprising, and truly progressive for the group. 

Opener ‘I Want a Dog’, the stand-out, is affecting, melancholic, and bittersweet. What begins with Cuomo repeating the song’s title as a refrain grows into a story about lacking companionship of any kind. Earlier versions wrote of a prisoner, alone in a cell. It aches and resonates, with Cuomo cooing atop lush strings and tender acoustic guitars in the opening stretches. A series of sudden sonic and dynamic shifts then take place, with numerous changes in tempo, tone, and time signature occurring near-simultaneously. Soaring choruses, shredding solos, and pop-punk build-ups are packed into an emphatic three minutes. 

‘Iambic Pentameter’ leans on swinging waltz-time before an extended mathrock bridge recalls Norwegian noise pop outfit Pom Poko. Closer ‘The Deep and Dreamless Sleep’ is similarly ambitious (if not more so) using its final act to divert away from its constantly revolving chord sequences and driving rhythm section into a resounding coda, replete with squealing call and response between the guitars. On social media, Weezer devotees are comparing segments of Winter to Car Seat Headrest’s 12-minute mini-opera ‘Beach Life-in-Death’ – the comparison is understandable. For this reason, Winter occasionally flirts with feeling a tad overwritten, but Cuomo’s undying penchant for infectious melodies, and his ability to embody the awkward quirks and feelings of inadequacy buried deep within his protagonists, make the experience one that’s curious, intriguing, and emotionally potent.

‘Basketball’, the closest Winter gets to resembling “classic Weezer”, has me thinking of ‘In the Garage’. But instead of Cuomo finding himself in his car-hole safe-haven as he did back in ‘94, this time he’s hiding under the bleachers, praying he won’t be spotted by his basketball coach and asked to play. Elsewhere, ‘Dark Enough to See the Stars’ shares identical cadences to ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’, which feels seasonably appropriate but distracting in the moment – still, it spins an evocative tale of loneliness, isolation, and grief. ‘The One That Got Away’ walks a similar path – one of serious regret, of looking back over decades to replay old embarrassments and open up old wounds. They’re chapters of the larger tale Winter tells: of someone reaching the end of their life very much alone, having lost everything, incapable of curing their social inadequacies.

"It looks back on the mistakes made during the year, or during a lifetime, while staring wistfully out at the snow, riddled with guilt, eventually retiring to bed for the final time"

Along the way, SZNZ’s plot has obscured. Where Spring and Summer made explicit references to the angels’ activities (leaving the Garden of Eden, attending a “whale show”, calling God a “punk ass”), the lyrical references to their respective journeys through Autumn and Winter have grown increasingly vague. In fact, the lines between Cuomo’s feelings and that of his angelic protagonist have significantly blurred as the story has progressed (he even references his old haunt of Boston, MA in the otherwise inconsequential ‘Sheraton Commander’). But what this move towards more thematic storytelling has enabled is the chance for Cuomo to craft a poignant tome that reflects the symmetry between the changes brought on by each passing season and the slow crawl towards death itself.

The platform to tell a story that has resonated emotionally (even as the plot has meandered) has been built on the effective subversions on the romanticised aesthetics of each season that Cuomo has crafted. Spring proceeded as expected, with luscious greens, folksy instrumentation, and pastoral atmospheres. However, Summer picked up the baton and opted not for sun-soaked days by the beach but for raging fires of righteous indignation and bitterness to burn Spring’s gardens to cinders. Autumn might be synonymous with knitted scarves and pumpkin spice, but Cuomo prioritised the themes of death and rotting, and of nature expiring before the barren nights of winter. Winter makes occasional lyrical and melodic references to the fuzzy fairytale potential of yuletide but is focused more on desolation and remorse. It looks back on the mistakes made during the year, or during a lifetime, while staring wistfully out at the snow, riddled with guilt, eventually retiring to bed for the final time. 

On Spring, two angels left the Garden of Eden to live as earthlings. On Summer, they were corrupted by the human experience and went their separate ways. Autumn followed the male angel, alone, desperate to apologise, but unable to make amends. Now, on Winter, the male angel accepts his fate, ruminates on the errors of his ways, and turns towards ‘The Deep and Dreamless Sleep’. At the outset of the SZNZ project, this end point felt unlikely, but now we’re here it feels appropriate. For years, Weezer fans have grasped at anything they can in order to understand Cuomo’s perspective on life, the universe, and everything. And with this grand tale, finishing in this bleak, heartbroken place, he might have finally told us.

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More about: Weezer