Pitchfork

This just in (seriously): Ripping Ian Curtis is the new ripping Eddie Vedder, or at least Editors hope so. A Creed-sized paycheck hinges on it. True, everyone wins in an Editors dude for Scott Stapp trade, but we're only upgrading Stone Age songwriting to Bronze. In the verses, these post-punk savages wrest our beloved, delicate Television riffs away and bang them out like rugs, then someone drops a boulder on the synth keys for a heavy-handed chorus of regret and feelings and stuff. Adding to the clumsiness, Editors shoehorn in the requisite sad sack of sad, though vague lyrics don't reveal what exactly crawled up their asses. Fortunately for these guys, they're getting a lob over the plate here. At best "Munich" recalls an awesome Interpol concert you saw, at worst the band don't heed its own advice: "People are fragile things/...Be careful what you put them through.""