In first grade my favorite song was “Buddy Holly.” I memorized the lyrics proudly, ready to show them off to the only willing audience I had: my older, cooler siblings. When the song finally came on the radio, I cranked up the volume and chimed in, “Ooh-eeh-ooh I don’t trust that Buddy Holly, oh-oh I love Mary Tyler Moore, I don’t care what they say about us anyway, I don’t care about cats.”
I had misheard the lyrics, and therefore suffered major ridicule. Determined to perfect my performance I purchased my first CD: Weezer’s self-titled debut, known as “The Blue Album.” Thousands of listens later, I eventually moved on from track four.
Today, listening to the musical and lyrical simplicity of “The Blue Album” takes me back to less complicated times, reminding me both of childhood’s eases as well as adulthood’s complexities. Although since then I’ve moved on to bigger lyrical challenges, to this day I’m still not really sure why Weezer doesn’t trust Buddy Holly.
