The only imperfect album of a career that has been perfectly, well, perfect; released in 2004, after over a year of work, it opens with the beautiful melancholic ballad "Leaving New York," an unconditional love declaration from the band towards the Big Apple. Then I just need to quote a phrase from Peter Buck: "At times the album is unbearable, because it sounds for what it is; a group of people so bored with the material that they can't take it anymore." It is the thirteenth album.
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