And seeing the band live isn't without its rewards. For one, you and your snarkier hipster friends can play a vigorous few rounds of "Reference Check" (no points for noticing the pun in the new album's title; extra credit for knowing that there's a new bassist). Moreover, you can take ample comfort in the fact that, going by the songs, Atkins is way worse off than you -- or perhaps anyone.
And then there are the familiar pleasures of Doug Martsch-lite; the soaring riffs, the presto/change-o time signatures -- the sloppy, flannel-shirted indie-rock aesthetic that, we're sorry to inform you, is now officially passé. So go ahead, live out 764-HERO's nostalgia trip, drink piss-tasting beer like you mean it, and hell, when you run into what's-his-name from high school, tell him we said hi.
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