My older sister Randie is finally tying the knot, and we haven’t exactly been on the best of terms since I crashed her Jeep into a few parked cars during a beer run, but she’s reluctantly still inviting me at the behest of my parents. Since I work from home (read: stream on Twitch and collect unemployment) and my social life isn’t exactly flourishing, I’m at a loss as to what to wear on such an occasion. So I’m looking to Weezer, a band that amazingly has zero misses in their 30-year career, to solve my sartorial dilemma.
30. Rivers Cuomo “Blue Album”
I guess I’d put this on if I was an 8-year-old ring bearer, but my nephew Walter already has that job and that kid bites real hard. He had the nerve to tell Randie that I was smoking cigarettes in the her bathroom during Thanksgiving dinner last year, I wasn’t smoking. I was snorting pills.
29. Patrick Wilson “Make Believe”
Not sure what’s going on here, but this album is where Pat’s hair loss becomes really obvious. Well, mine’s falling out too and I think it’s probably because when I was 18 I tried dipping a joint in Nair to see what would happen. Anyway, I don’t want to bring any more attention to that. Especially with a weird print t-shirt and a pair of Sketchers.
28. Mikey Welsh “Green Album”
This is the only album cover Mikey Welsh appears on and he looks SO uncomfortable. Almost like his mom dressed him for the shoot and he fought her on it the whole time. If a guy who previously played in a band called Left Nut can’t rock a fit with confidence, I have no chance at all.
27. Patrick Wilson “White Album”
It’s hard to tell what’s going on in this picture, but whatever it is, it makes me anxious. He looks like an off-duty cop that wants to beat the shit out of someone trying to shoplift a trinket from a store on the boardwalk. Hard pass.
26. Scott Shriner “Make Believe’
It’s almost as if the band realized Shriner looked way too tough to play in Weezer, and honestly, anyone that signs up for one cardio kickboxing class is probably too tough to play in Weezer. This forced them to dress Scott up like an awkward 7th grader to compensate. Well, last time I went to a gym they called the cops on my for drinking the hand soap.
25. Patrick Wilson “Blue Album”
This one just screams “It’s laundry day and I’m out of quarters.” I get that drummers need to dress comfortably but that shirt is very see-through. Last time I wore a see-through shirt my parents saw my “Fuck Me Raw” tattoo on my back and wrote me out of the will.
24. Rivers Cuomo “Black Album”
Remember when Wile E. Coyote would be chasing the roadrunner and he’d set up an elaborate trap involving a bucket of tar, but end up getting the tar poured all over him, then just stand there looking defeated? That’s what Rivers looks like here. Not the vibe I’m going for.
23. Brian Bell “Green Album”
This guy is way too handsome to play in a dorky band like Weezer and he knows it. He can probably wear a Wegman’s bag and make it look like high fashion. The military jacket with the strappy things on the shoulders is a little too Franz Ferdinand for my taste, though.
22. Rivers Cuomo “Make Believe”
This one’s giving off serious “what did you think of my improv show” energy. Maybe my cousins from West Virginia would think I’m cool and artsy, but they’d most likely have a lot of (correct) assumptions about my sexuality.
21. Brian Bell “White Album”
Once again, it’s hard to tell what’s happening here, but his posture is oozing with pretty boy confidence so I’ll trust that the fit is a homerun. If only I had his lion’s mane of hair and not something akin to Bill Murray in Scrooged.
20. Girl On Swing “Pacific Daydream”
Randie LOVED to dress me up in girl’s clothes when I was little, so maybe I’ll beat her to the punch with this one and roll up looking cuter than the maid of honor. What could possibly go wrong?
19. Matt Sharp “Blue Album”
This one’s giving me “we just had a night of great sex and I’m making us pancakes” energy and not quite wedding material. If only I could make the disheveled look as endearing as Matt Sharp does. I honestly can’t remember the last time I had sex. I know I cried a lot, and my wallet got stolen.
18. Brian Bell “Make Believe”
This strikes me as a young, hip college professor that definitely hooks up with his students. At some point I’d have to pull out my pocket watch and declare that I’m late for my Burroughs book club meeting.
17. Scott Shriner “White Album”
Not gonna lie, showing up to a family function looking like a deep background actor in “Road Warrior” would be delightfully antisocial. Might need to employ a fog machine. Strong contender, but the wedding is in August and I sweat more than doctors think is humanly possible.
16. Rivers Cuomo “Green Album”
Maybe my wedding gift to Randie will be flashbacks of the time I learned how to play “Basket Case” and would terrorize her by playing it at full blast at all hours of the night. But I pawned my guitar a few years back to get my nipples pierced. Then I pawned my amp to pay for medications to cure the infection I ended up getting. Keep your nipple piercings clean people.

It would be easy to dismiss the only Belke-less SNFU album for that fact alone, and that’s probably what we’re doing. Still thrashing and tight ‘til Tuesday, the guitars are missing the brothers’ radioactive/mutant quality, much easier to notice when it’s gone. The late Mr. Chi Pig is belting out his cutesy horror lyrics nearly as well as ever and, coming out of a rough period of addiction and homelessness, that’s a more impressive miracle than getting a crowd to make really tiny fish sandwiches or healing some jerk with leprosy. Let’s hope he gets resurrected faster than this other guy.
Geography dictates that there are countless similarities between Vancouver and Seattle. Trees and mountains are everywhere, it won’t stop raining, and hard drugs could feasibly be elected Mayor. This is a very Vancouver album – green and grimy and soaking wet and Bif Naked is here – except for the song that takes place in Virginia with Lorena Bobbitt cutting her husband’s cheating doodle off. That’s cool, but it’s a 3,000-mile jump in location. Was no one paying attention to continuity?
There weren’t many SNFU shows without “Reality is a Ride on the Bus” or “Painful Reminder” in the setlist, and there are other gems on this album too – but when an emergency rehab stint a few days into recording sidelines your producer, you may lose some of the sonic intensity you were hoping would be your top cherry. The blazing Belke attack is somewhat neutered, and that snare drum is bordering on Snapcase. Chi is, as always, a suitably jovial/disturbing host.
Fresh off of pretty much inventing melodic hardcore, these freaks are already fucking with the formula. “What if Jerry Lee Lewis was Darby Crash?” seems to be the seed of “The Devil’s Voice,” while “I Forget” sounds as if AC/DC had their first show at the 9:30 Club. The only problem here is the blatant lie in the title – you had at least one grandparent who both cursed a blue streak and could easily snatch up a rainbow trout with their bare hands.
Leading off with an ad for their new venture as futon salesmen, SNFU are all business on this record. Sure, for this band a G.I. Joe coming to life and raging with murderous penis envy is all in a day’s work, and laying the groundwork for the entire future of skate punk is something you can just do whenever you feel like it. Seriously, go out to your garage right now and try it. Just watch out for that old box of action figures.
One of those “instant classics,” a term so overused it lost all meaning until it was brought back to life by the writing of this article. This instant classic hits the ground not only running but already chasing down prey – it’s speedy, it’s thrashy, it’s gnarly, it’s… catchy?! Sure is, and we can still hear the influence of this album today. Also noteworthy is that this band is from Edmonton, which until now we thought was a fictional city like Metropolis or Saskatoon.
The mid-’90s were a pivotal time for SNFU. Punk records were finally sounding like they were made in a real studio with real engineers, which was good because at the time they were selling an absurd amount of them while writing the catchiest shit ever. This was also a time when science was the closest they’d ever gotten to figuring out what the fuck is happening on any of the band’s album covers. Looking at them for an extended period is discouraged, you’d have a better chance of staying sane if you were taking care of a remote mountain hotel for the winter.
At the time of its release, many had forgotten about SNFU or assumed they had petered out the way bands do. Unexpectedly, after eight long silent years, they unleash this blast of speed, riffage, and absurdity that tears through town like a tornado. The playing is sphincter-tight and Chi Pig is in top form on both the page and the mic. When those burners are firing, they can go places that no one else can. If we have the guts, they’re happy to take us along for the ride.
Hippos kill more humans than any other animal in the world, but aside from inviting a few mean jokes toward the heaviest member of your family, there’s very little chance for Hungry Hungry Hippos to tear a family apart forever.
If you’ve never played it, Apples to Apples is basically like an even more dumbed-down version of Cards Against Humanity without the “Against Humanity” part. Just simple, non hentai/AIDS/racism nouns matched to adjectives. Any family game night can have a sore loser, but if this one causes significant friction in your family you guys have way deeper issues to work out.
Basically a glorified version of Tic Tac Toe, Connect 4 actually requires you to make pleasant chit-chat in the hopes of distracting your opponent from what’s right in front of their face. If your family can’t enjoy Connect 4 without serious conflict, move out immediately.
Look, if you’re arguing over a game of checkers, it has nothing to do with the checkers and everything to do with the fact that you hate your siblings.
Unless someone in your family is drunk enough to make really inappropriate “twink” comments you’re pretty safe playing Dream Phone.
In the commercials when you lose at Jenga that’s okay, it’s part of the fun! In reality, it’s Mom, every single goddamned time. Is she doing it for attention?
A deceptively challenging game with a million opportunities to make one innocent mistake that will 100% be interpreted as a lie.
This game seems straightforward, but there’s just enough room for error in the interpretation of certain questions to build accusations of cheating that will serve as the seeds for resentments that can last a lifetime.
There’s no reason for this game to devolve into a passive-aggressive tiff rooted in homophobia when played with a family group, and yet every family has at least one dude who will bring it there every single time.
In the movie, Jumanji is a magical game forcing players into an epic high-stakes adventure. In reality, it’s little more than a re-skinned version of Candyland that will have your family shouting “Whose dumb idea was it to play this boring game anyway?!” in no time.
This classic Napoleon-themed war game is simple enough to instill children with the close-to-the-chest tact they’ll one day use to tiptoe through future family gatherings.
Versions of this game date back to ancient Egypt, but the modern American version always ends the same way: Children in the back of a car whining “Why do we always have to go to Grandma’s house, it’s boring!”
If your family agrees to play Risk, it’s because it’s a board game they have heard of and they have absolutely no information beyond that. Technically the game can last days, but you’ll all storm off hating one another within a few torturous hours.
A straight-up dice gambling game disguised as wholesome entertainment, sort of like the razor-thin veneer of “loving family” You know is hanging by a thread.
If you think your problem-drinking uncle isn’t going to turn your game of Othello into a race thing you’ve got another thing coming.
A game with absolutely zero strategy, the winner is determined by what each player randomly spins. So why is my brother looking so smug after winning? You didn’t like, DO anything bro, get over yourself.
Another zero strategy game, the winner being predetermined by the order of the cards at the beginning of the game. So why does your cousin keep insisting she’s “good at it”? You should be able to let it go, but you just can’t, I mean what does that even mean?!
With all of those colors, numbers, and a somewhat complex scoring system there’s bound to be at least one member of your family with just enough of a processing disorder to have a full-on meltdown.
This ain’t your Grandmother’s card game! That’s probably why she’s so confused. You’re trying to explain the rules as politely as you can but you know it’s only a matter of time before you yell at her, and you already hate yourself for it.
This game seems like a cutesy celebration of ‘80s consumerism, but it can bring out the worst in people. It’s basically Black Friday, the home edition. You even need to find your parking spot after you buy everything.
The first time you hear that little buzzer go off everyone has a nice fun laugh. After the 100th time, you will look the woman who gave birth to you dead in the eye and say “What the hell is wrong with you?!”
While its cousin Scrabble is a much more potent argument generator, Boggle gets some points because you can grab it with one hand and use it as a projectile if you’re mad enough.
It’s never too early to teach kids the smarmy passive-aggression that will generate physical fights with their siblings for years, maybe decades!
Fresh off the first of many hiatuses, something about “Blaze” is a little off. Remember that this is an American band, and since the world had last heard from them America had to endure 9/11, Columbine, and Woodstock ‘99. Nickelback were consistently hitting #1 and subprime mortgages were a dime a dozen – but 2003 wasn’t as great as it sounds. “Blaze” is still Lagwagon, your mom will still let you play it in the car.
Rock and roll really does belong to the youth, punk rock even more so, with ‘90s skate punk being a prime example. Despite that, these ancient skate punks actually have some legs left. “Surviving California” and “Bubble” are serious Lagwagon, but throwing everything they had into the ambitious “The Suffering” may have tuckered these old boys out a bit. They’re back, but unlike RKL they aren’t mad about it.
This much-loved 12” slab of tartan barf is the first album to feature current Lagwagon drummer Dave Raun, one of many eventual members who was young, wealthy, and liked acid. Dave’s a decent guy (like most of us) until he drums, when something akin to demonic possession occurs and the violence begins. “Double Plaidinum” sounds remarkably cohesive for a band with two new members, but it only reaches Gingham status.
Something about the combination of the noose on the cover and the warm, wall–of–sound production of “Hang” could easily send you down an internet rabbit hole of autoerotic accidents, and despite everything you learn about how easy it is to get the smallest thing wrong and end in one of the least private tragedies imaginable, you will definitely look into the actual logistics of it once you finish writing this article. Maybe blast “You Know Me” at the peak.
You know things are serious when they tune down right at the beginning. “Resolve” serves as a eulogy for original drummer Derrick Plourde, and the loss can be heard in every note on the album. Good thing it’s not your job to write jokes about this album, eh? You might end up typing different versions of “Thanks, Joey. Thanks a lot.” until you hit your word count. Thanks, Joey. Beautiful record, but you fucked up my day.
The word “Duh” means nothing to us, so we did some research and our data suggests it’s an acronym for “a Debut record this good is UnHeard of.” One of the blueprints of the “Fat” sound, every piece that makes Lagwagon great is already here. Even today, there are plenty of folks who will passionately argue that it’s still their best album. It’s not and they’re goofs, but “Tragic Vision” alone makes a very good case for them, along with classics “Bury the Hatchet” and “Mr. Coffee.”
This record is 25 years old and still feels like “the new one.” The ‘90s were an incredible journey for Lagwagon, going from house parties to full houses and writing dozens of songs that are still played and loved every single day. If you see them live and listen to what happens when they introduce “May 16” you wonder why it isn’t a federal holiday. We could use a pre-game for Memorial Day.
Lagwagon may be a garbage soccer team, but they’re a hell of a band. The songs that actually appear on this collage of movie clips (including Bobcat Goldthwait’s immortal “Shakes the Clown”) are nearly all classics of the era, and the ones that aren’t totally are as well. Your band covered “Bye for Now” because a) everyone loved it and sang along and b) it was the only song on the album your guitarist could play. If there’s a negative here, it’s that Van Morrison may have gotten royalties from this record.
Top-tier musicianship and 14 of the most memorable songs you’ve ever heard might be enough to achieve the gold medal. Honestly, the impact of “Sleep” alone could possibly do it – if there was a party in 1996 where the highlight wasn’t when that song came on the boombox, we weren’t at it. The master stroke was releasing an album that features a song called “Name Dropping” and somehow that’s not the song that drops the names of the two most famous and sexiest humans to ever walk the earth, Sherilyn Fenn and Billy Gibbons. Subtle artistry like that has some legs.