With “The Green Album,” Weezer bolted out of the garage on what seemed to be an effortless second wind of pop stardom. Kids who had never heard of “Tired of Sex” joined an avid fan base that had been waiting patiently since “Pinkerton” for the return of the geek-rock gods.

With “Maladroit,” the band ditches concise sunny pop for concise arena rock. Following the trend of “The Green Album,” Weezer’s fourth release is packed with 13 rock explosions.

That’s right. Bucking the trend of Weezer’s last three 10-song albums, “Maladroit” features 13 songs, the only reason the album is longer than its predecessors.

Front man Rivers Cuomo must have had a difficult time culling the tracks down to just 13; cutting the album to 10 would have been nearly impossible. The songs are that good.

From the dirty Alice in Chains-laced opening riff of “American Gigolo” to the martini-sipping lounge act of “Burndt Jamb,” “Maladroit” is Weezer’s most adventurous album to date.

But one thing Cuomo hasn’t changed is his ability to make each song instantly memorable.

“Dope Nose” features a sped-up vocal hook reminiscent of the Steve Miller Band’s “Swingtown” making lyrics as loony as “Cheese smells so good on a burnt piece of lamb/ Fag of the year who could beat up your man” seem cool.

And Cuomo must be a Little Eva fan. Eerily, the lyrics during the chorus of “Love Explosion” can be substituted with those of Eva’s 1962 “Locomotion,” with the vocal melodies matching up almost perfectly.

“So jump out, jump out, get your groove on/ This one is for you so come on/ Get out yer house, girl, and give me a kiss,” Cuomo sings on the track, again revealing the less-than-personal nature of the songs.

As it did on “Pinkerton,” Weezer self-produced “Maladroit,” dropping Ric Ocasek who produced Weezer’s first and third albums. But unlike its second, soul-baring album “Pinkerton,” “Maladroit” offers listeners only one glimpse into Cuomo’s pain.

During the plaintive “Death and Destruction,” he pleads with an unresponsive lover: “I can’t say that you love me/ so I cry and I’m hurting/ Every time that I call you/ you find some way to ditch me.”

Sure, it’s not the wrenching wit of “Pink Triangle” or “Why Bother,” but who has time to cry poetically when thousands of metal signs salute you every night?

– Jon Dahlager