Category: News

The Boys demonstrated atypical restraint in not spinning off Amazon’s flagship series into oblivion. Aside from the one-off Diabolical, the enormously popular Eric Kripke TV universe held back from a full-blown spin off until Gen V, which will return for its second season this year. It’s probably wise to set aside the Mexico talk for now (if it happens, it happens), but Vought Rising is definitely also happening and promises a Supe-d up good time.

The series will largely revolve around the Stormfront and Soldier Boy characters originated in The Boys by Aya Cash and Jensen Ackles, who will reprise their roles in this prequel spin off. Yup, they are rolling this universe back in time, so get ready.

When Will Vought Rising Take Place?

Prepare to see Vought International’s origins of the 1950s, when Soldier Boy and Stormfront were created. That would be the era in which (in TV lore) Klara Risinger became the world’s first Supe after marrying Frederick Vought and being injected with Compound V. And under differing circumstances, Soldier Boy became the first American Supe, also through the power of that serum. The two beings would later tear Homelander’s little world apart in contrasting ways during contemporary times, but long before Homie surfaced, Vought Rising will showcase their prior evil deeds.

Jensen Ackles has also teased this series as the show as “a lurid, pulp saga prequel set in New York City.” And Amazon’s vague description promises “a twisted murder mystery about the origins of Vought in the 1950s, the early exploits of Soldier Boy, and the diabolical maneuvers of a Supe known to fans as Stormfront, who was then going by the name Clara Vought.”

Vought Rising will likely surface in late 2026 or early 2027.

In January, Coi Leray announced that she is pregnant with her first child with fellow rapper/longtime boyfriend Trippie Redd. Today, she revealed the child’s sex in maternity photos posted to her social media accounts. “Girl Mom,” she wrote in the caption.

Pregnancy hasn’t stopped the rapper from working on new music; while her last full-length project, Coi, came out in 2023, she released an EP, What Happened To Forever?, just this past February. It featured five songs (“Keep It,” “I Hate Your Friends,” and “Lick Back” among them), and along with 2024’s Lemon Cars EP (featuring the title track and “Can’t Come Back“), bridges the gap between Coi and her third album.

Unfortunately for Trippie Redd, Coi isn’t happy with her child’s father, who she said she caught cheating on her just weeks after announcing their impending bundle of joy. She addressed the incident in a song snippet she shared on social media, singing, “All the times I caught you cheating, I shoulda killed you but you gon’ have to see this / You told me you love me but you ain’t mean it / If this is what love is you can keep it.”

In January, Coi said she was four months along, so she can probably expect her daughter to arrive sometime before summer starts.

I want to tell you about a song I have been playing a lot lately. It’s the kind of song you swear you already know by heart, even as you are hearing it for the first time. It’s like a Paul McCartney tune from the late 1960s that didn’t end up on a Beatles album and should have. (Is the song I’m talking about a cover of a possibly forgotten outtake from one of the Anthology albums? No, it’s not. I checked.) The singer is from Ohio, but his voice bears the faintest trace of a feigned British accent. He’s not doing a full-on English impersonation like fellow Buckeye Robert Pollard of Guided By Voices; It’s more like he’s evoking the ambience of a British accent, without sacrificing his organic, lived-in Midwestern raspiness, in a manner that makes me think about Paul Westerberg’s woefully under-heard 1999 semi-classic, Suicaine Gratifaction. (Is the song a Westerberg cover? No, I checked that, too.)

“Open your hearts from without and within / lift your heads don’t let them drop” is my favorite line. When he sings that part, it reminds me of the rustic folk-rock ballads that Gene Clark perfected in the 1970s. As Gene often did, the singer accompanies himself on an acoustic guitar. And he is backed only by a violinist, whose playing sounds both country and classical at the same time. (It is not a Gene Clark cover, I confirmed.) This song signifies a world of music that is instantly familiar and comforting to me, but it’s also new. And when I play it for the 20th time, I marvel that it’s still possible to hear music like this, a song that unlocks something inside that you forgot was there.

It’s called “Lift Your Heads” and it’s by a singer-songwriter named Bill Fox, who has just released his latest album, Resonance. For 99.999 percent of the population, this will register as the first-ever news about an artist with the most generic “Ohio man” name imaginable. But for a small cult of fans, it is a wondrous development. Resonance is the first Bill Fox record in 13 years, and only his fifth solo LP in the past 29 years. (He also fronted a power-pop band in the ’80s called The Mice that is worshipped by power-pop freaks like the aforementioned Robert Pollard, who has raved about them being an influence on GBV. Fox, in turn, sounds a bit like an amalgam of Pollard and his former GBV bandmate, the elfin-voiced Tobin Sprout.)

The bulk of Fox’s reputation rests on two albums he put out in the late ’90s, Shelter From The Smoke (1996) and Transit Byzantium (1998). They were mostly recorded at home by Fox himself on a four-track. Unlike the unruly blasts of psychedelic pseudo-arena rock turned out by his peers in GBV, Fox plays songs with Dylanesque instrumentation (voice, guitar, harmonica) and a Beatlesque melodic sense. And his lyrics — often lovelorn, occasionally political, usually introspective, and always poetic in a plainspoken way — are far better-written and heartbreaking than they need to be.

The mood of those ’90s records is homemade and intimate, like they weren’t meant to be heard outside of a close circle of friends. I’m thinking of “Sara Page,” an especially beautiful song from Shelter From The Smoke, where you can hear a TV (or maybe it’s a radio?) playing in the background. Or “Since I’ve Been Gone,” which like so many Bill Fox compositions seems to be about trying to live a decent life while negotiating various unspoken disappointments and traumas. “Field of dreams been cut down a ways / field of dreams been cut down a ways / field of dreams been cut down a ways since I’ve been gone,” he sings, without overplaying the hurt baked into the lyric.

That’s how I think it goes, anyway. Bill Fox lyrics can be hard to find, along with any other information about him or his music. Of all the obscure singer-songwriters that have garnered even a modicum of acclaim in the past several decades, I am confident in declaring that Bill Fox is in the top one-percentile of mysterious enigmas. Though the mystery is mundane in nature. He’s not Syd Barrett locked up in an asylum or Leonard Cohen meditating at a monastery. It’s as if he tried to make everything about himself unexceptional other than his music. There’s his comically un-Googleable moniker, as well as his nondescript, every-dude appearance on his album covers. Even in the company of musical outsiders, Bill Fox doesn’t fit in.

If that really was the strategy, it worked: Bill Fox has never been written about by Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, or Spin, in his prime or otherwise. His reviews on AllMusic are light on biographical information and details on the records under discussion. With one major exception, you can’t really read or learn about Bill Fox anywhere. And, sure, you could say the same about most obscure songwriters. But not most great obscure songwriters, which Bill Fox is.

His absence from these platforms feels more like the product of artist design than editorial choice, as I discovered myself while trying to procure basic facts about Resonance for this column. (More on that later.) So, forgive me in advance for some of the educated guesses I’ve made. For instance, based on the scant knowledge I have of Fox, I believe he is now in his late 50s. I can’t say for certain when Resonance was recorded, but I am pretty sure one of the songs, “Man Of War,” dates from the early ’90s, and not only because it’s a quasi-protest number that references Desert Storm stalwart General Norman Schwarzkopf. It’s possible the recording also dates from that time, as Fox’s voice still sounds remarkably like it did on those late ’90s records. But his voice is also well preserved on the other tracks, so perhaps “Man Of War” was laid down with those tunes after all.

What matters most of course — on this I’m sure Fox would agree — is the music. And I’m happy to report that Resonance is uniformly excellent and presents an ideal entry point for newcomers. The first number, “Terminal Way,” is a great example of his knack for McCartney-like pop craftsmanship, reduced to hard acoustic strums and harmonica blasts. The chorus — “But get away / get away / I love yah in a terminal way” — signifies Fox’s romantic misanthropy, a recurring theme in his work and a source of unending melancholia stemming from an intractable “you can’t fire me because I quit” attitude.

And then there’s “Meat Factory,” a stunning dirge about small-town drudgery delivered with a deceptively light touch, like Donovan singing “Masters Of War.” Only Fox’s target isn’t the military-industrial complex but the local slaughterhouse, a hellish place where “all your early childhood hopes / get mangled in the blades and spokes” and the only salvation is that “an office bench / will raise you from the smell and stench.” I realize that reads like the opposite of a toe tapper on the page. But when Fox sings it, “Meat Factory” enters your brain like an ear worm that only seems like it’s been there since the time you first started caring about music.

I first heard of Bill Fox in 2015. I was, sadly, on the social media platform formerly known as Twitter, and I mentioned an interview I had done back in 2001 with the late, great power-pop legend Emitt Rhodes. A reader in the replies suggested I check out Fox, whose music resides in an adjacent lane. I queued up Shelter From The Smoke, and I was hooked.

Before long, I discovered the one significant magazine profile written about Fox — not that there are many insignificant Bill Fox interviews — which by default is the foundational text for anyone who’s a fan of his music. It appeared in a 2007 issue of The Believer, and it was written by Joe Hagan, an accomplished journalist who is currently a special correspondent for Vanity Fair. These days, Hagan is known for his political reporting, including meaty exposés about major figures like Henry Kissinger and Robert Kennedy Jr. Hagan also wrote a famously contentious biography of Rolling Stone founder Jann Wenner, which I loved, prompting an invitation to my old podcast back in 2017.

Hagan became a Fox fan in 1999, after being introduced to his music by his wife. Along with being mesmerized by the songs — in his story he likens Fox to an unlikely (but appropriate) stew of Dylan, the Everly Brothers, Big Star, and Woody Guthrie — he was fascinated by the dearth of information online. That interest soon turned into obsession. From a distance, he tried for months to get in touch with Fox in his hometown of Cleveland. Failing that, he reached Bill’s brother Tommy, a former bandmate from The Mice, who described his sibling as “a crabby loner and contrarian who barely makes ends meet and refuses to talk about his music with anyone, especially a reporter.”

Digging deeper, Hagan learned that Fox was a diagnosed manic depressive with a history of self-sabotage. In the ’80s, just as The Mice planned to embark on a big tour, he broke up the band and ghosted his musical partners. (Which might explain Tommy’s acerbic take on his brother.) In the ’90s, after CMJ magazine called him “one of the most important artists of our day,” Fox torpedoed a potential record deal with Sire and seemingly fell off the face of the earth.

In one vivid episode from the Believer article, Hagan tries to reach Fox at the telemarketing office where he worked at the time. His boss answers the phone and says Bill is not there. “He was here this morning and then he left for lunch and I don’t know if he’s coming back,” the guy says. “Bill kind of makes his own rules.” Two hours later, Hagan phones again. “He came in for about a half hour and he said he was not interested in talking to you,” the boss replies.

This did not deter Hagan, who actually flew to Cleveland in the hopes of finally landing an interview. He only got as close as Fox’s inner circle of friends, who were not exactly encouraging of his journalistic efforts. “He’s not mysterious,” says one of his pals. “He’s just Bill. He’s just this guy we hang out with.”

When I reached Hagan by phone last week, he told me that the mystery of Bill Fox still lingers with him nearly 20 years later.

“Of all the things I’ve written about all kinds of people from politics and Hollywood, this story has had the greatest longevity in terms of people constantly coming back to me to tell me about it,” he says. “So, it’s been gratifying to have inspired people to get into him. It’s kind of what you dream about when you write about something like that.”

Hagan’s article wasn’t originally supposed to live online. The Believer didn’t post it on their website out of deference to Fox, who allegedly told one of his friends that he refused to talk to Hagan because “I don’t want to be on the internet.” The story only has a legacy because Hagan eventually included a PDF on his personal website, in part because so many people had come around looking for it.

The only other substantial article about Fox I could find online was a 2009 item from The Cleveland Plain Dealer, timed with a local show. Like Hagan, the reporter tried to interview Fox, to no avail. He did learn, however, that Fox had recently taken a job in the paper’s telemarketing department. One day, he found Fox outside the building on a break, smoking a cigarette.

“I don’t want a story,” Fox told the reporter. “With utmost respect, I don’t want you to write anything.”

At the end of Hagan’s Believer story, he expresses some misgivings about disturbing a man who clearly does not want public attention. “He wants to produce music without having to do what people are expected to do, which is interviews and go play outside of his town somewhere,” Hagan told me. “He doesn’t want to do that. And that’s perfectly legit.”

I agree with that. But Bill Fox did put out a record. And I know he wants people to be aware of this, based on an encounter I’ll discuss in a moment. I did not want to delve into his personal life. All I was looking for was the usual background information that artists routinely share in a press release — when was the album recorded, where was it recorded, who plays on it, and so on. In lieu of that, I have Hagan’s story, which references “Man Of War” as an outtake “from some early 1990s studio sessions that Fox recorded with money his father left him after he died of cancer in 1991.” Is the recording of “Man Of War” on Resonance the same “Man Of War” Hagan wrote about? For now, I don’t know.

In my imagination, I picture Fox as the sort of middle-aged hermit that seems to exist in every office. The one you tolerate and maybe even like a little bit, but who doesn’t seem to have any semblance of a private life outside of work. Only in this particular case, the hermit just happens to sing and record genius pop songs in his spare time, and those songs have traveled surprisingly far and wide. How can that be? Who knew the office hermit had it in him?

In that sense, Bill Fox feels more knowable to me than the average cult hero singer-songwriter. He’s mysterious but he’s not exotic. Bill Fox is, like this pal says, just Bill. But I wonder if the people in Bill Fox’s regular life know the version of Bill that his audience hears on his records, the sensitive soul who bares emotional wounds that never seem to heal. It’s possible that “the real Bill” actually lives in songs like “Desperation,” a broken-down ballad in the mold of Big Star’s Third:

I’ve got a weight that’s called desperation strangled around my neck
And I can’t break loose, stuck in this noose, my eyes peer straight ahead
Down a road of pure frustration I’ve been misunderstood
On gravel and stone I travel alone to where our love once stood
From here to you go I’m carrying through a weight that’s called desperation.

“I think it’s a rare thing to hear a recording that feels like you’re having a pinhole into a private world,” Hagan said near the end of our phone call. “And it’s a private world of somebody who’s just a beautiful craftsman of songs and just has a beautiful soul. I think that he has to put up certain barriers to entry. I’m not a psychologist, so I won’t try to pretend to know, but that was sort of the journey I was on when I wrote about him.”

I have my own “I tried to interview Bill Fox” story. It’s not as involved as Hagan’s, but I’ll share it nonetheless.

When I reached out to Fox’s label to get an advance download of the album, I asked if he was available to talk. I expected to be turned down immediately, but I was doing my journalistic due diligence. To my surprise, Fox emailed me later that day. Writing in curiously formal language, he pointed out that his album was not mentioned in an article (that I did not write) listing upcoming album releases for the month. “Hardly a big deal unto itself,” he assured me, “but there’s an inconsistency here that I don’t quite actually ‘get.’” Meaning that he wanted to wait on the interview until after I had followed through on mentioning his album on this website.

He did, however, consent in a later email to sharing a photo of himself to run with this column. (He also shared his lyrics, for which I am grateful.) He said he doesn’t often have his picture taken, which he admitted “is a detriment for image and promotion.” But I understood why. That’s just Bill.

It’s almost time to go to All Things Go. On Tuesday (April 15), the lineup for the DC-area music festival was announced, with headliners including Noah Kahan, Doechii (maybe in another fan-made outfit?), Lucy Dacus, Clairo, Kesha, and The Marías. Also on the bill: Sharon Van Etten & The Attachment Theory, Last Dinner Party, Wallows, Faye Webster, Julien Baker & Torres, Bartees Strange, Djo, Lola Young, Role Model, Rachel Chinouriri, and many more.

All Things Go Festival 2025 is held from Friday, September 26, to Sunday, September 28, at Merriweather Post Pavilion in Columbia, Maryland (the lineup for ATG in New York is coming soon). The fan pre-sale begins Thursday, April 17, at 10 a.m. ET, while the public on-sale is on Friday, April 18. You can find more information here.

Check out the full lineup below.

All Things Go 2025 @ Merriweather Post Pavilion Lineup For Friday, September 26

Noah Kahan
The Marías
Last Dinner Party
The Beaches
Sharon Van Etten & The Attachment Theory
Lucius
Caroline Kingsbury
Joy Oladokun
Sunday (1994)

All Things Go 2025 @ Merriweather Post Pavilion Lineup For Saturday, September 27

Lucy Dacus
Clairo
Wallows
Faye Webster
Backseat Lovers
Julien Baker & Torres
Orion Sun
Hippo Campus
Gigi Perez
G Flip
Hazlett
Zinadelphia
Paris Paloma
Bartees Strange
Hey, Nothing
Carol Ades

All Things Go 2025 @ Merriweather Post Pavilion Lineup For Sunday, September 28

Doechii
Kesha
Djo
Lola Young
Role Model
Marine
Ashe
Rachel Chinouriri
Griff
Aces
Alemeda
Molly Grace
Maude Latour
Michelle
Peach PRC
Jasmine.4.t

Movies can get sequels — why not albums? Post-rock band Caroline has announced Caroline 2, a follow-up to 2022’s majestic Caroline. They also released first single “Tell Me I Never Knew That” featuring Caroline Polachek.

As for how the collaboration came together (besides the obvious), Caroline explained in a statement, “We wrote the opening top line together and straight away we thought ‘this sounds like a melody that Caroline Polachek might sing’ in its hooky-ness. We sort of joked that we’d ask her to sing it but didn’t think it’d actually be on the cards, until about a year later when we sent her the half-finished song and she was up for it! Caroline was amazing.”

Caroline continued:

“She wrote a load of extra parts that gave the whole thing such a lift, and then spent a few hours tracking a load of more improvised parts. We were still recording at about 1.30am when we decided to call it, but there was no indication that Caroline was the slightest bit tired or that she had lost any momentum in her ability to sing, even though she’d been singing for about 6 hours. It was an inspiring thing to witness! We did a little bit more re-ordering together with Caroline a few weeks after the session and then the song was finally there.”

You can listen to “Tell Me I Never Knew That” above, and check out the Caroline 2 album cover and tracklist below.

Caroline’s Caroline 2 Album Cover Artwork

Caroline’s Caroline 2 Tracklist

1. “Total Euphoria”
2. “Song Two”
3. “Tell Me I Never Knew That”
4. “When I Get Home”
5. “U R Ur Only Aching”
6. “Coldplay Cover”
7. “Two Riders Down”
8. “Beautiful Ending”

Caroline 2 is out 5/30 via Rough Trade Records. Find more information here.

Lil Nas X is in the midst of a medical episode right now, but he’s not letting it get him down.

Last night (April 14), Nas shared a video of himself lying in a hospital bed, starting with him smiling, but the right side of his face barely moves. The rapper says, “This is me doing a full smile right now, by the way. It’s like, what the f*ck [laughs]? Bruh, I can’t even laugh right, bro, what the f*ck? Oh my god. [laughs] So… yeah.” The post is also captioned, “Soooo lost control of the right side of my face [crying emoji].”

Then, in his Instagram Story, he shared a video highlighting the two halves of his face, saying, “We normal over here, we get crazy over here [laughs].” He captioned the video, “I’m so cooked [crying emojis].” In another Story, he added, “Guys I am OK!! Stop being sad for me! Shake ur ass for me instead!” He added in another story, “Imma look funny for a lil bit but that’s it [crying emojis].”

Nas got some support in the comments of his original post, like from Taraji P. Henson, who wrote, “Get well baby.” Garbage also wrote, “Sending you love,” and Niecy Nash commented, “Wishing you a speedy recovery [bandaged heart emoji][folded hands emoji] (this happened to my mom. Hot compress several times a day helps wonders ).”

Lady Gaga delivered a stunning performance during this first weekend of Coachella a few days ago. But, some fans noticed one of her recent releases, last year’s Joker: Folie à Deux accompaniment Harlequin, didn’t make it onto the setlist. So, Gaga responded.

On TikTok a couple days ago, a fan shared a screengrab from Gaga’s Coachella performance, featuring her lying surrounded by skeletons. On the image, Gaga is labeled as “Coachella” while the skeletons are labeled as Gaga projects that weren’t represented in the setlist: Artpop, Joanne, Chromatica, and Harlequin. The user captioned the post, “well Gaga doesn’t remember Artpop and I don’t think she’ll remember Harlequin.”

Well, Gaga herself took to the comments to write, “Harlequin is one of my proudest pieces of production [black heart emoji].”

Some users made note of how Harlequin was the only project Gaga chose to speak up in support of, like one user who wrote, “The fact Gaga didn’t defend the other albums in her comment [skull emojis].” Another wrote, “Girl we know Gaga HATES Artpop.”

Per setlist.fm, Gaga performed 11 songs from Mayhem, four from Born This Way, two from The Fame, two from The Fame Monster, and “Shallow” from A Star Is Born.

Check out Gaga’s full setlist below and revisit our recent interview with her here.

Lady Gaga’s 2025 Coachella Weekend One Setlist

1. “Bloody Mary”
2. “Abracadabra”
3. “Judas”
4. “Scheiße”
5. “Garden Of Eden”
6. “Poker Face”
7. “Abracadabra”
8. “Perfect Celebrity”
9. “Disease”
10. “Paparazzi”
11. “Alejandro”
12. “The Beast”
13. “Killah”
14. “Zombieboy”
15. “Die With A Smile”
16. “How Bad Do U Want Me”
17. “Shadow Of A Man”
18. “Born This Way”
19. “Shallow”
20. “Vanish Into You”
21. “Bad Romance”

Back in 2022 and well in to 2023, nepo babies in music was all fans could talk about. So much so that several rising recording artists with famous parents decided to lean into the viral discourse. But alternative rock newbie Lexi Jones is not interested in joining the bandwagon.

As the daughter of late music icon David Bowie, Jones wants nothing more than to be detached from his creative legacy. Now that her debut album, Xandri, has been shared to streaming platforms, Jones shut down comparisons to her dad’s famous releases.

Over on Instagram, Jones penned a poignant poem to stress that she’s “not trying to fill his shoes.” But rather forge a musical path for herself.

“I’m the daughter of a legend / But I’m more than just his name / They see the blood, they hear that sound / Yet fail to see me, don’t feel that same,” she opened the piece.

She continued: “They compare me to his heights / Like I’m supposed to reach his light / But I’m not here to chase what’s already been done / By loving what I do, I feel I’ve already won.”

To end the piece, Jones brushed off online pressure to mirror Bowie’s beloved catalog, writing: “But I’ll keep moving, keep doing me / Even when the world is hard to please / I’m not trying to fill his shoes / I’m just trying to find my own peace.”

Read Lexi Jones’ poem David Bowie’s Daughter here.

Xandri is out now. Find more information here.

Over the weekend, Benson Boone set up shop in the desert for Coachella 2025. During the “Beautiful Things” singer used his time on stage to announce his sophomore album, American Heart.

Benson Boone also took a moment to honor one of his musical inspirations–legendary rock band Queen. During Boone’s Coachella 2025 weekend one performance he was joined by the group’s guitarist Sir Brian May as he covered “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

While the moment was magical to Boone, the crowd wasn’t exactly impressed. So, yesterday (April 13) Boone took to TikTok to express his displeasure with the audience’s cold reaction to May’s surprise cameo.

“Me trying to get the crowd at Coachella to understand what an absolute legend Brian May is and the cultural impact he has on music and THE WORLD,” he wrote over a clip lip-syncing to “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

Although Boone did not appreciate the crowd’s response to the duet, May wasn’t phased. In a post uploaded to his Instagram page, May expressed his deep gratitude.

“I’m still reeling from last night at Coachella,” he captioned a photo of them onstage. “Thanks to all of you folks who made it feel so special — you know who you are !!!! And this particular way of concluding Bohemian Rhapsody will be hard to beat in the years to come!!! Thanks. And for Benson and his entire team, I have no words. I’m awestruck.”

Apparently all the Weezer biopic rumors were true. For well over a year, fans of the “Say It Ain’t So” musicians claimed a featured length was on the way.

During Weezer’s performance at Coachella 2025 frontman Rivers Cuomo confirmed a movie documenting the band’s legacy was indeed in the works.

“We’ve been busy making the Weezer movie back in L.A. the last couple of weeks,” Cuomo told the Coachella 2025 weekend one crowd. “But when Coachella called us up, said, ‘Hey Weezer, could you guys make it out for a surprise appearance?,’ we’re like, ‘Heck yeah!’ It feels so good to be here with you guys and let out these emotions.”

This isn’t the first time the band addressed the biopic reports. During their Voyage To The Blue Planet tour, they had a special friend tease the upcoming feature.

“Now, there’s a big fight where Weezer is fighting these big villains,” >Sonic The Hedgehog actor Ben Schwartz told concertgoers. “And what’s going to happen now is they’re going to follow me, and I’m going to be fighting in different areas. And I’m going to say, ‘Someone throws a punch at someone from Weezer,’ and you’ll react to that. And then I say, ‘And Weezer kicks their butt!,’ and you react to that.”

As of today (April 14), Weezer has not shared any further details about the forthcoming film.