• Record Label: Geffen
  • Release Date: Mar 25, 2008
User Score
7.7

Generally favorable reviews- based on 34 Ratings

User score distribution:
  1. Positive: 26 out of 34
  2. Negative: 4 out of 34

Review this album

  1. Your Score
    0 out of 10
    Rate this:
    • 10
    • 9
    • 8
    • 7
    • 6
    • 5
    • 4
    • 3
    • 2
    • 1
    • 0
    • 0
  1. Submit
  2. Check Spelling
  1. Oct 5, 2010
    6
    More of the same music from Counting Crows, a band that I've loved now for over 15 years, but felt a bit cold about this piece. Overall, this is not a particularly serious album, and it hurts the quality of the songs for me, which feel very fluffly overall. A few standouts ("Cowboys", "Washington Square", "Le Ballet Dor") are filled in with mostly forgettable stuff ("Insignificant" beingMore of the same music from Counting Crows, a band that I've loved now for over 15 years, but felt a bit cold about this piece. Overall, this is not a particularly serious album, and it hurts the quality of the songs for me, which feel very fluffly overall. A few standouts ("Cowboys", "Washington Square", "Le Ballet Dor") are filled in with mostly forgettable stuff ("Insignificant" being especially well named). If you like Counting Crows a lot, I would probably buy it, but there's nothing here that distinguishes itself from better albums like "Recovering the Satellites". Expand
Metascore
63

Generally favorable reviews - based on 12 Critic Reviews

Critic score distribution:
  1. Positive: 4 out of 12
  2. Negative: 0 out of 12
  1. 60
    On the harder-rocking half, Duritz is nearly emo-esque in his self-loathing.... The disk's Sunday Morning half, is more acoustic, quieter, reflective. But after the epic bender that precedes it, it's also just kind of a drag. [Apr 2008, p.78]
  2. The disc's first half, produced by Pixies vet Gil Norton, is surprisngly fast and scrappy. But the pace slackens in the mellower remainder, produced by Brian Deck. [28 Mar 2008, p.65]
  3. The hair-shirt single "You Can't Count on Me" and the cheerily grim "Hanging Tree" are little masterpieces of pop craft, their arrangements and Duritz's invitingly petulant wail often echoing golden-era R.E.M. Sometimes that craft is enough: The latter song is so packed with guitar fireworks that its buzz-killing lines about freezing to death barely register.