The sound is dry post-punk guitar with spare, witty flourishes abounding and nearly every track gives up a quotable phrase, sometimes two. Intelligent phrases they are, too. But what are we to make of a group whose best song is a reading of Camus's "The Stranger," a book that was holy writ for collegiate existentialists since before Robert Smith was born? I mean, do we really need collegiate existentialism nostalgia? B