It’s been a decade since Swedish rockers Sgt. Sunshine released their self-titled debut, an album that 10 years later still rings in the ears of those who were fortunate enough to hear it. In 2007, the follow-up, Black Hole, came out on Elektrohasch, and with a crunchier sound didn’t have quite the same spark as its predecessor, despite also being well received at the time. The band’s third album, aptly titled III (also released by Elektrohasch), immediate carves out a potent blend of desert groove and heavy psych jamming, the Malmö three-piece tapping into an earlier-Queens of the Stone Age via Colour Haze sound as natural as it is fuzzy, the guitars of Eduardo Fernandez leading the way for the rhythm section of bassist Pär Hallgren and drummer Christian “Kricke” Lundberg to flesh out and fill out the sound as cuts like “When I Was a Dog” nestles into funky vibing and the later “Holy Mother” digs deep into a warm, open jamming midsection. Fernandez and Hallgren share vocal duties, but it’s the songs themselves that are at the forefront of Sgt. Sunshine’s approach, with memorable hooks spread throughout and a fluid, unpretentious sensibility that leads one track into the next without any sense of progressive posturing or showiness. Opener “Zoetrope” starts with a drum beat from Lundberg strongly reminiscent of “You Think I ain’t Worth a Dollar but I Feel Like a Millionaire” from QOTSA’s Songs for the Deaf, but the “ooh”ing chorus soon unveils a more distinctly European take on the desert ideal, reminding of some of what Austrian rockers Been Obscene have been able to bring to the table melody-wise, without being fully adherent to their take either. It’s a solid opener and for Sgt. Sunshine’s first album in six years, they make their intent clear in the thick, warm tones of Fernandez’s guitar and Hallgren’s bass and the on-a-dime changes that play out smoothly across the 3:39, setting a tone for what’s to come throughout the album that follows in a natural feel and engaging sense of craft, “Zoetrope” returning to its verse/chorus interplay after a midsection jam.

From there, III embarks on a variety of riffy progressions but stays consistent in terms of atmosphere and desert rockery. Lundberg’s snare punctuates each cycle on “Caress the Tense Blue” as the guitar and bass work in tandem to threaten to swallow the vocals whole – they don’t, but Fernandez takes an effective transitional solo between verses to echo the melody – and though it’s the longest song on the album at 6:59, its structure prevents it from becoming overly repetitive. A split almost exactly in the middle introduces the fuzz line that will serve as the central figure for the second half, vocals soon topping double-time hi-hat drums that open to a slower section of psychedelic moodiness, a sluggish groove that carries the song to its finish and is soon counteracted by “Golden Dawn”’s immediate, no-frills rush. The effect putting the relatively straightforward “Zoetrope” and “Caress the Tense Blue” next to each other has is one of giving the listener a sense of not knowing what to expect – throwing the audience off without losing their attention – so that as “Golden Dawn” returns to a more basic verse and chorus-based mindset with an instrumental break similar to that of “Zoetrope,” the feeling isn’t that Sgt. Sunshine are repeating themselves, but rather that they’ve shown they can go wherever they like and where they’d like to go for the moment is there. It doesn’t last, of course, as the mostly-instrumental “Marrow Soup” lands with a dense thud of jam-based heavy psych riffing. The parts have been worked out – it doesn’t sound like the trio are making it up on the spot, that is – but there’s a sense of spontaneity about “Marrow Soup” anyway, even as Fernandez, Hallgren and Lundberg bring the build up, put it down again, bring it up again and ride the part to its end, giving way to “When I Was a Dog” and its funk-directed course. So far, III has started with a  shorter track and then answered with a longer one, but that doesn’t continue through the second half of the tracklist, as the lasting hook of “When I Was a Dog” leads to a stretch of longer material that fills most of side B save for the epilogue closer, “Levin.”

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