The quartet has always had a
bit of an identity problem. They’re
 an experimental band who can make
droning long-form songs that are
supremely challenging to the average
listener; they’re the pop band whose tracks “My Girls” or “Summertime Clothes” wouldn’t sound out of place synced to commercials for hybrid cars; they’re the band who, according to the internet, was “created by/for/on the internet,” yet they were so terrified of their music leaking online that every review copy came with a 300-word excoriation of file-sharers and a timeline for when it was permitted to mention having heard it on Facebook (August 1).

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