From the barrage of drums and cheap casio maddness my ears recoiled. Was this the same band that had been on the previous Blue album. Yes ‚but to the pop sheen of their previous effort they had wielded a frenzied abandon. Everything is just a little slopier (in the best of all possible ways). And everything is Distorted. This probably due to the fact that it was the band’s first production effort. Tired of Sex bashes along cackling with energy. No Other One seems to add the influence opera. Head Weezer guy, singer, guitarist Rivers Coumo combines a keen literateness to pop convention and warps it to suit his purposes, and his purposes are twofold first and formost to rock and second to vent. He obviously has girl trouble not unlike every other pop singer, but he is less cliched and more honest in this respect than most. Across The Sea chornicles the lonliness he feel as trigger by a fan letter. He can have a relationship with the fan via the letter and his music, but it can’t end his lonliness. My description patently doesn’t do this justice. Every song on this album is more moving than I can possiblely convey on a computer screen. With 10 songs and not one over 3:08 I can assure there isn’t an ounce of fat here. The drums explode all over. The twin guitar assult is meldoic in some place and just plain rockin in other. By the time you reach track ten your voice is ragged from singing along and you’re ready for the ballad. And it ‘s good one. Buy it because it rocks. Buy it because they piss off their record company. Buy it because it will heal your brain.