Some french dude reviewed the album.

seeing as the only french i know is the repeatedly pardonable type, i chucked it into Babelfish and got this

“If the bad taste posted on the small pocket is not prone to polemic, that is it necessary to think of the contents delivered by this vast troop from Dublin? Third album on behalf of the label Pilatus, Spectre and Crown follows in a way applied and school of the boulevards stripped of obstacles, in a kind which one will describe as orchestral and conclusive post-rock’n'roll (and by-there same a tedious hair). Imagine one moment C Make Say Think which would have even gathered widened its panoply instrumental (battery, guitars, eloquent section of cords and coppers, banjo, winds, accordion, piano, Rhodos….) but would have left in the ditch its samples always relevant, its inventiveness and its audacity, to become a disciplined pupil. One imagines the group gifted and capable of smoothnesses (delicate muddle of harmonics and crystalline tics-tacs of Hugs for Buddy for example), but too quickly and too often, it embourbe in some a little agreed heavinesses. Thus, The day the arms that cam out off the wall begins as from Mogwai to weak health finishing leaded and bitch by coppers and an accordion lumps; Red Tony and Jetta’ S de luxe hotel appear a tiresome tantinet, the fault with a piano at the very least insistent and re-sifting. The art off wrecking varies the climates and marks a truce put in its by cords tristounes which are expressed with more reserve than in addition, on bottom of rain and parasitized radio sequences. Some flashes which challenge but are not enough to make convincing an album which misses ardour fundamentally and of corrosive.”

Not really complimentary, but oddly beautiful. Jetta’s deluxe Hotel, eh? That’s where Paul lives. in a deluxe hotel. Really. I’ve been there.