Weezer once turned Buddy Holly from a dead icon into an indie disco star. But their own current resurrection is something of an illusion. Workshy at best, lazy at worst, their output has been haphazard - they once left a Stone Roses-like five years between albums - but always successful. So when frontman Rivers Cuomo stands arms aloft, a geeky Messiah in a sensible blue sweater, irony isn't included.

It's Cuomo's romantic ineptitude and Weezer's talent for power chords that endure, while a love for the 1960s surf sound of their Los Angeles hometown softens the self-loathing lyrics.

Proving that familiarity breeds affection, Cuomo is as crestfallen as ever on latest album Make Believe. Yet their strength - an inability to grow up - is also their weakness. As the band plough through their back catalogue, the feeling that they've been making the same song over and over again since their 1995 debut grows. Rhythms grind, drums crash and excitement evaporates.

Adopting a legs-apart stance he shares with Cuomo, Shriner dirties up the frazzled sunniness of Don't Let Go but even he can't rescue the turgid fence-sitting of We Are All On Drugs, which proves as compelling as Grange Hill's Just Say No.

Bell, Shriner and drummer Pat Wilson are each given a chance to sing lead vocals, but this is Cuomo's show. Staring at the ceiling whilst playing one shrieking guitar solo after another, he dips between powerful despair of Say It Ain't So and the banal, Blink 182 singalong of Beverly Hills with equal passion, his voice both conspiratorial sigh and punk whine. But when he abandons the stage for a microphone in the balcony to sing an acoustic version of Island In the Sun, his stillness proves more impressive. Maybe Weezer shouldn't be so scared of growing old after all.

· At Manchester University (0161-832 1111) tonight. Then touring.