Welcome to Social Capital, a series devoted to analyzing the social-media presences of celebrities.

Rivers Cuomo, the 45-year-old frontman of the rock band Weezer, tweets as if he can’t drink yet. Sometimes he tweets as if he’s not even old enough to drive. Since he joined Twitter in 2008, Cuomo has opined at length about crushes, friendship, memes and, his new favorite medium, Snapchat. “i hate it when you don’t open my snaps in which i looked extremley [sic] cute :(,” he tweeted at his over one million followers on Nov. 17, 2015. (The first reply? “gosh you tweet like a 18 years old.”) If you were to open the aforementioned snaps, you would find almost exclusively demure selfies. You would also find that at 5-foot-6, with large square glasses and a haircut fit for an eighth grader, Cuomo looks far more like the boy his tweets suggest than the middle-aged father only investigation will reveal he has become.

Weezer’s pop-culture apogee was from the mid-to-late 90’s to the early aughts, which means for people like me, born just in time for the Clinton administration, songs like “Buddy Holly” were the music we put on our first iPods and jammed to at the middle-school Spring Fling. The Weezers and the Blink-182s and the Green Days and the Smash Mouths were the loud guitar-playing men with teenage attitude who would carry us from AOL 4.0 toward a new millennium. Soon after, the idea of the man-child – the hero of the Judd Apatow film, the hilarious older brother of the sitcom – entered our cultural consciousness, peaking with movies like “Superbad” and “Knocked Up.” Men in their 20s weren’t marrying anymore. Thanks to a recession and a growing gender gap in education, many of them weren’t doing much of anything besides sleeping, playing video games, trying to hit on increasingly younger women who hadn’t yet realized that their “cool older boyfriend” was actually not cool and perhaps plucking absent-mindedly on a guitar.

Cuomo — both on social media and in reality — does not seem to be a man-child in this traditional sense. He has a grown-up life. He has children. He works hard, having released a 2014 album with Weezer that was well received by critics. He isn’t dragged down by drug use or other criminal drama, nor does he constantly chase women 20 years younger in a public and embarrassing way. He’s just . . . consistently angsty. Or at least he has constructed his entire social-media presence to suggest as much.

Cuomo tweets about “listening to 1d” and getting excited when his dad calls. He uses the word “cute” with a frequency that rivals a fashion pictorial in Seventeen magazine. He often writes as though he’s a pubescent fan of Weezer instead of its most recognizable member, rarely (if ever) saying “we” or “us” when referring to the band. His YouTube channel, last updated four years ago, includes videos of him doing vocal exercises while someone accompanies him on piano and videos of him doing physical exercises at Equinox. There’s also a series of videos of him learning to dance to remixes of songs by Rihanna and Hot Chelle Rae.