Weezer in Austin: A Nerdy, Magical Voyage Through Space and Time

A special "Blue" night at Moody for the power-pop godfathers

While their best work is surely 30 years in the rear view, it’s hard not to be impressed by Weezer’s enduring shelf life. Fairly consistent album releases in an era where they get next to zero radio airplay (due primarily to their dogged insistence on using musical instruments) and sold-out arenas are a testament to their enduring niche in the cultural zeitgeist.

So, I was more than a bit pumped to see Rivers Cuomo and crew Friday night at Big Moody for their Voyage to the Blue Planet tour. I’ll try and control for the fact that I’m a shameless Weezer whore, but I think I can remain relatively unbiased, because this night was objectively fun for anyone with ears and a soul.

I’ll very quickly get the supporting acts out of the way. Dinosaur, Jr. opened and played a tight, five song set, almost apologetic for delaying the main event. They sounded good, especially on 1994’s catchy Feel The Pain, and I’m sure any fans there wanted to hear a bit more.

Oklahoma’s own The Flaming Lips were next and I want to be honest here—they’re not my thing now and never have been. I’ve always found front man Wayne Coyne to be a bit off-putting and cringy, and so I came in with low expectations. And while Coyne was equal parts melodramatic and pompous (constantly begging for applause and crowd interaction), he and his crew put on a pretty decent mini show.

The Flaming Lips in full creative throat

Two early twenties super fans parked themselves in the aisle near my floor seats, and I’ve rarely seen happier human beings at a rock show. (In fairness, another youth was overheard saying, “What the hell is this?”) On stage, a lot of pomp and wild inflatables were the order of the day, and when they closed with the surprisingly anthemic Do You Realize??, I must admit that they’d partially won me over. Now, on to Weezer.

I want to first note that this was a full house, with the upper decks open. An impressive feat for any act in 2024. And the age range of the crowd was broad and robust—teens through 60s, including a lot of 50 something parents with their kids along for the ride. There’s something uniquely cool about a band that can be so relatable across generations.

The tour is a 30th anniversary party for the band’s iconic 1994 Blue Album, and the show revolved around a space voyage, with an impressive screen behind the guys acting as a 5th band member throughout the night with huge, vivid, Easter-egg laden visuals thematically anchoring the night's three acts: a (mostly) greatest hits section, Pinkerton era bangers, and, finally, The Blue Album in its entirety.

Kicking off with Anonymous/Return to Ithaka off of the Everything Will Be Alright in The End record was a surprising touch, as those have not been concert staples, but the crowd was so hyped —and band so on point—that it went off perfectly. This was followed by a “who’s who” of the band’s post-Pinkerton standouts: Dope Nose, Hash Pipe, Pork and Beans, Beverly Hills, Island in the Sun, and the brilliant but oft-maligned Perfect Situation.

The lads sounded (mostly) great and the crowd absolutely lapped it up. The mildly divisive All My Favorite Songs brought a few groans and one fan yelling, “Why are you playing this shit?” but the overall vibes were tasty. Even Rivers being a beat late to the mic on a couple of songs came off as lovable, a testament to how adored this band still is.

The night’s vibes turned up when the band launched into a series of Pinkerton tracks, starting with the uber-angsty Getchoo, and confidently dancing through Why Bother?, Pink Triangle, Across the Sea, and personal favorite B-side, the criminally underrated You Gave Your Love to Me Softly.

Your friends’ dads

It was a stirring, perfectly landed time warp to simpler days and the Moody Center faithful were fully invested, even in the face of awkward “oh hell no” in 2024 lines like “I’m dumb she’s a lesbian. I thought I had found the one,” “I wonder how you touch yourself and curse myself for being across the sea,” and “But it’s just sexual attraction, not somethin’ real, so I’d rather keep whackin.” But it absolutely worked and the entire house was clay in these awkwardly cool 50 somethings’ hands.

And then the emotional apex of the night began: a pillar to post Blue Album third act. This was one classic after another, which launched into the iconic Buddy Holly not as some cliched encore, but rather in its organic album slot after the aching The World Has Turned and Left me Here. And it worked so well and felt totally relatable experiencing the tracks in the same order as we had so many hundreds of times on CD.

“How are there so many fucking good songs on this album?” wondered a fan near me aloud as the Surf Wax America’s Dick Dale-inspired intro guitar riffs unfurled. And they surely weren’t alone. My Name is Jonas, Say it Ain’t So, and In The Garage were other highlights from this otherworldly sonic sojourn.

“One small step for Rivers Cuomo, one giant leap for nerdy music fans everywhere”

And then the opening bass riffs of the pensive Only in Dreams signaled that the night was nearing a close, giving the faithful one more heartfelt (and a bit odd if you’re into lyrics) voyage into the past. While a few nonbelievers shuffled out early to avoid traffic, the real 99% stuck around until the final chord was strummed, ending an emotional, gorgeous night of nostalgia and music.

There are stressful, high stakes times. But for one night—a single, fucking amazing one—Rivers, Brian, Scott, and Pat invited ~15,000 fans on to their musical spaceship and transported them to a simpler, better, more rad time and place. And I was lucky to have been a part of it.