When returned from their lengthy post- hiatus with , they'd been apart almost as long as they'd been together. While they were gone, they cast a long shadow: upstarts like and borrowed more than a few pages from their stylebook, and even established acts like used the band's strummy guitar pop for their own devices. During that time, the members of pursued side projects that were more or less engaging, but it felt like the band still had unfinished business; though was ambitious, it didn't feel like a final statement. For that matter, neither does , which arrived just a few months shy of their classic debut 's tenth anniversary. Clocking in at a svelte 34 minutes, it's as short as the band's early albums, but is a different beast. Somehow, sound more retro here than they did before, with slick production coating everything in a new wave sheen. 's drums are more precise than ever, and ' voice is blanketed in distortion that stands in sharp contrast to his pristine surroundings. is ' star, turning in witty responses to ' vocals and dazzling solos like the one that graces ' mix of power pop and post-punk. deliver a few quintessential moments: is an ueber- song, with tumbling verses that borrow 's melody and soaring, secretly earnest choruses; meanwhile, 's reggae-fied strut harks back to . They sound even better on which, with lines like "Monday, Tuesday is my weekend," rivals their earlier songs for quotability, and on which plays like the perfect cross between 's and everything recorded from the late '70s to the early '80s. ~ Heather Phares