Enough with the deconstruction already. It has served Spoon tremendously well for 16 years and seven albums now, this urge to strip their sharp, brash, stylishly grouchy mod-rock down to its rawest, most skeletal form. A Wall of Sound reverse-engineered into a geometrically precise pile of bricks; a perfect, lovingly crafted pop song painstakingly roughed up until it sounds like a tossed-off, four-track shrug; a tousled-bedhead look that takes hours of fussing and gallons of... More >>>