Say what you want about Weezer; that they’re lame, that Rivers Cuomo’s lyrics have a tendency to get unusually creepy, that Raditude sucked, etc. All very true, for sure. But they’re just so good in spite of all of that, dammit - they always have been. I can’t think of a more sincere group out there right now; they’re so steadfastly unconcerned with coolness, so free of smugness, that it’s endearing.

The release of their latest electropop single, “Feels Like Summer,” ahead of The Black Album’s release - you guessed it - this summer, has been met with what every post-2001 Weezer release has brought about: a hurricane of boring hipsters airing their complaints on SPIN comment threads. Their input is always something along the lines of “They fell off after Pinkerton, and everything since then has been trash.” That’s an understandable belief (I mean, come on, it’s hard to follow Pinkerton), but it doesn’t give the later albums the credit they deserve. I went and made a list of the ten best songs from these albums, because there are some real gems among them, and because I care about this too much.

10. "Space Rock"

Maladroit is the black sheep of Weezer’s discography; nobody (apart from a relatively small minority who considers it an underrated treasure) within the fanbase seems to have any fervent feelings about it, perhaps because it’s their least eccentric. Apart from lead singles “Dope Nose” and “Keep Fishin’,” the album remains overlooked - most regrettably this neat little song, hidden on the second side, that clocks in at just under two minutes. It’s full of oohs and aahs, falsetto lyrics, crunchy guitars. And that title, playfully hinting at their abandoned space opera concept album “Songs from the Black Hole.” The lyrics seem to further reflect on the band’s early history, particularly River’s rocky relationship with his hard-to-please fans: “You wanna cry when you’re dealing with the kids.”

9. "Peace"

It’s clear why Make Believe is considered the beginning of the end. It took the pop rock sensibilities of the Green album and made them even more Radio Disney-friendly - remember hearing “Beverly Hills” in between hourly plays of Bowling for Soup’s “1985”? - making for pretty embarrassing stuff (I’ve come to appreciate it recently, but yeah, it’s still pretty cringeworthy). “Peace,” the best track on the album by a landslide, manages to benefit from the sanitization and the Coldplay-ness. It’s big-hearted and wholesome, and sounds pleasant - that’s all that matters, really.

8. "Hang On"

Continuing the trend of unusual featured artists that started with Lil Wayne on Raditude, this folksy tune in the middle of Hurley has Michael Cera, basically the human personification of Weezer, playing a hurdy-gurdy and providing backing vocals. It’s a feel-good stomper, the band sounding as good as they ever have. It’s not without its offbeat Rivers-isms: “Just like I’m solar, you warm up to me.” The chorus makes up for it, sweet and optimistic almost to a fault: “Hang on til I see you again / I’m going to be more than a friend / You know that this isn’t the answer, hang on.”

7. "Miss Sweeney"

I don’t know which bonehead decided to relegate this to bonus track obscurity on the Red album instead of “Everybody Get Dangerous,” but it suffers as a result. On a release full of mediocre contributions from the other members of the band (sorry, fellas) and awkward genre experiments that just flat-out don’t work, “Miss Sweeney” would have been a shining highlight. Rivers, as the narrator, takes on the persona of a shy office worker, faux-Midwestern accent and all, addressing the titular object of his affection. He stutters his way through clumsy lines like “Anyway, the cash deposit of $5,000 will need to be sent to the property owner tomorrow” before letting out his bottled-up emotions in the exultant chorus: “Girl, you make the rain clouds disappear / The sun always shines when you’re near, I’m waiting / Until you love me.” It’s beautiful.

6. "Back to the Shack"

It’s obvious that Rivers heard the outcry from the fans who felt alienated by Raditude, because this is a glorious love letter to those longtime followers of the band who yearned for a return to the glory days of ‘94. The lyrics make this clear: “Maybe I should play the lead guitar and Pat should play the drums.” The sighs of relief were audible the day this song dropped. The fan service isn’t just lyrical, either - the crunchy, Marshall stack power pop-ness of it all is so authentic, so Blue-esque, it’s hard not to love.

5. "I Want to be Something"

Another bonus track, this time tacked onto deluxe editions of Hurley. Its omission from the tracklist is less of a crime than “Miss Sweeney”, because Hurley is a much more solid and consistent effort than Red - and this track, a bare-bones acoustic tune, wouldn’t have fit with the likes of ‘Where’s My Sex?” and “Smart Girls”, anyway. Still, it’s a standout. Rivers hasn’t sounded this painfully earnest and wistful since howling about half-Japanese girls and irrational fears way back when on you-know-what.

4. "Da Vinci"

If “Back to the Shack” was Everything Will Be Alright in the End’s promise to return to the band’s roots, “Da Vinci” was the return. It’s got all the makings of classic Weezer: out-of-left-field lyrical references, whistles, raucous sing-along choruses, lovable nerdiness. In a song about infatuation, Rivers namedrops Rosetta Stone, Stephen Hawking, and Ancestry.com - and he makes it work, somehow. Call it bad songwriting, but don’t forget that this has been one of his quirks since the Blue album, where he rambled about Dungeons and Dragons booklets and Superman skivvies.

3. "Run Away"

This stunner, nonchalantly sitting in the middle of Hurley, catches the listener by surprise, almost because it, frankly, sounds a little too good to be a Weezer song. Ryan Adams’s songwriting credit is immediately obvious; this is the closest to sounding like heartland rock the guys have ever been. With layers upon layers of twanging, glimmering guitars, it’s like a distant cousin of Bruce’s “Thunder Road” finale; by the time the chorus rolls around with its perfectly syrupy ooh-oohs, you’re won over.

2. "Keep Fishin’"

Maladroit’s lead single is pop perfection, from beginning to end. Look no further than the music video that accompanies the radio version (the far better version) - it’s a full-blown Muppet Show performance, and it’s a joy to watch. Rivers, Brian, Scott and Pat all look like they’re having the time of their lives, bouncing around, gleefully pretending to play their instruments, beaming from ear to ear. Fitting, given that the song oozes the same kind of exuberance; the hooks are there, the riffs are there, the doo-wop harmonies are there. It’s such a well put-together track.

1. "Time Flies"

The final track on Hurley is, simply, the best piece of music the band has released since “El Scorcho.” It’s a far cry from that anthem’s youthfulness and naïveté, though; on this tune, with its earthy, folksy campfire jam stomp, Rivers sounds weary and jaded. Whereas on “Tired of Sex” he was lamenting the impersonality of hook-ups and yearning for new, intimate experiences, here he sounds like he’s seen it all: “Life is moving fast and I’m running out of gas / Time ain’t on my side.” It’s a huge step; after championing themes of adolescent angst for almost two decades, this was the first time he acknowledged his own mortality. Regrettably underrated classic.