ell, it’s finally here. Maladroit exploded onto store shelves last week, exactly 364 days after Weezer’s self-titled debut. We’ve been feeling the tremors since “Dope Nose” was leaked to the radio, but this is it -- The Big One -- and it’s off the Richter Scale.


When we met Weezer last year, Rivers, Brian, Patrick, and Mikey were just a bunch of easy-going, innocent kids, and “The Green Album” reflected this joyous naivete with a set of fun, simple songs. Clocking in at under 30 minutes, it was the perfect complement to a summer day, completely devoid of the pretension and angst that has dominated most rock music for the past decade.


Well, kids, we thought we had Weezer all figured out, but we were wrong. The old Weezer is gone, and they’re never coming back. Weezer 2k2 is here -- and they want to ROCK.


Free from the confines of Ric Ocasek’s synthesizer-and-studio-magic menagerie, Weezer produced Maladroit themselves, and it shows. This is a guitar album, and you know it from the opening chords of “American Gigolo.” Layering heavy guitars and bass over a rockin’ drum beat is certainly nothing new, but this feat hasn’t been accomplished with such poise and erudition since Ratt’s 1984 tour-de-force Out Of The Cellar.


“Dope Nose” follows in the same vein, with some unison “oh-oh-oh”s thrown in for good measure. This song marks a new high in Weezer’s fledgling career. With brilliant lyrics like “For the times / that you wanna go / And bust rhymes real slow / I’ll appear, slap you on the face / And enjoy the show” Rivers Cuomo secures his place in rock history as one of the most honest, emotional, and poetic songwriters of his generation.


“Keep Fishing” finds Weezer expanding their rhythmic palette, running on leisurely tracks through each verse, before kicking it into double-time for the chorus. “Take Control” is the best example of the new, moodier, Weezer. There’s not a single major chord on the song, and the nü-metal echo effect on the second verse is proof that Weezer has been paying close attention to the “darker” side of rock.


“Death and Destruction” is yet another side of Weezer! Rivers laments a nameless lost love, and the simple lyrics (“I can’t say that you love me / So I cry and I’m hurting”) say much more than any eloquently contrived oriental adoration masturbation myth. The song culminates in a slow, soft, yet intense build-up reminiscent of (but, sadly, not quite as evocative as) the best of the mid-nineties post-grunge bands.


“Slob” is decent, hard-rocking like the first two songs, but it’s overshadowed by the next song, “Burnt Jamb.” The song plays like a sequel to last year’s “Island In The Sun,” featuring near-Caribbean guitar lines that scream sunshine and fun, and scads of falsetto and harmony. The song is the most upbeat on the album, and marks an apogee for Maladroit, before it descends once more into the fiery pits of torment and anguish.


“Slave” plays like a distorted Tommy James & The Shondells, with more of Weezer’s now-trademark harmonies and meaningless-but-effective lyrical passages. The remainder of the album passes uneventfully, with songs fairly similar to the first half.


With this album, Weezer have proved that they’re around for the long haul -- they won’t fade away like so many one-hit-wonders -- they’ll continue refining their craft for years to come. I, for one, look forward to whatever they’ll bring us next -- be it hair-metal, celtic, or ragtime -- and I’ll be there the moment the store opens on May 13th, 2003, to wait my turn, slab down my $18 and walk away under the morning sun, arms wrapped tight around another piece of heaven.