Originally published at: https://boingboing.net/2018/06/13/watch-weezer-perform-africa.html
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11 Likes
I bless the Rains of Castamere.
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What about blessing Rainn Wilson, down in Africa?
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Imagine it’s 1988 and Bob Dylan scores a comeback hit with a faithful cover of Perry Como’s 1955 hit Ko Ko Mo (I Love You So).
That’s what this is.
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The original version is way better. Sorry internet memes.
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Watched the original video after that for the first time and understand now that humanity must be annihilated ASAP.
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I accept your conclusion but reject your premise.
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Anne, it has been 19 years. I am willing to concede your point about Weezer.
I reach for my asthma inhaler ever time I here a Weezer song.
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I bless the chickens down in Africa.
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Too close to the original. I want a goddamn wall of guitar. Y’know, Weezer.
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I seldom criticise bands & musicians. Here I’ll make an exception. What is the antonym of passion?
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Am I nuts or did they slow down 10 BPM over the course of the song? Like, keys were dragging and the drummer gave up?
Edit: Yep, 94 to 90 BPM, give or take.
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I hear the drums echoing tonight.
She hears only whispers of these homies dissing my girl.
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This is what you are looking for my child.
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This! I have been putting a playlist together for several days - it includes two covers of Africa. When I saw that Weezer had covered it, I watched with great anticipation, thinking I might add or swap one for this…only to have that anticipation fade to antipathy. What a boring cover of a great song!
Were they really tired or just don’t “feel” the song? It completely lacked any passion, drive, or interest. Even the keyboard solo was just a few seconds - did they not pay him enough to improv a little and make it something special?
What I want in a cover is a new, interesting rendition of a good song - this was a milquetoast version that was very close to the original…only with less passion.
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Obligatory… I can’t help it:
Gimme Weezer every time. Toto was never the same after Desmond left.
Have we now reached peak irony?
A catchy song, with incredibly self-absorbed lyrics, about seeing nothing but one’s own navel while traveling in postcolonial Africa. “It is the love child of imperialism and Muzak.”
