Comedian Hari Kondabolu did a hilarious bit about Weezer back in 2012. He kicked it off by asking, “What the fuck happened to the greatest rock band in the world?”

One could easily debate Rivers Cuomo and company’s right to that title, but it’s hard to dispute another observation that Kondabolu made. When he was 28, he said, he went to a Weezer concert and noticed that everyone around him was half his age. All these kids started looking at him “as if I was the creepy old dude.”

“And then I realized I wasn’t the creepy old dude in that situation,” he added. “Weezer are the creepy old dudes in this situation! They’re 40 year-old men who make music that, somehow, teenagers can relate to. Isn’t that a bit strange?”

Weezer’s latest album, Pacific Daydream, sounds too much like the kind of thing that Kondabolu’s talking about. Granted, its atypically bouncy beats make a nice change of pace from the band’s trademark arena-grunge formalism. Also, details like the job woes and the “scientist in sweatpants and a hair tie” in “Happy Hour” are welcome intimations of maturity.

Still, something in the songs leaves a sour aftertaste. This is especially true of “Beach Boys,” where Cuomo’s retro chauvinism sounds borderline racist: [LISTEN]

This white flight sentiment makes the album’s glossy, dance-pop sound feel like a cynical ploy. It’s like Cuomo’s dangling the newfangled music out as bait for the latest crop of teenage album/ticket/download-buyers.

Cuomo sounds less problematic elsewhere. On “Mexican Fender,” he cozies up to a sweet, smart and probably not too young lady: [LISTEN]

On “Any Friend of Diane’s,” he pays tribute to a girl he knew back in the day: [LISTEN]

Actually, if Cuomo had said more stuff like this — that is, if he’d turned his lyrical and melodic gifts to some explicit self-reflection — he could’ve made Pacific Daydream truly touching. As it stands, he comes off a bit too much like the creepy old dude that Kondabolu envisions.