It’s been three years since Spoon released its critically lauded Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga (Merge), which carried the band’s already substantial knack for pop songcraft to ecstatic new heights. It seemed as though the Austin-based foursome couldn’t possibly perfect their current style any further, and many speculated that, for their next release, they would have to alter their direction to some degree.

Indeed, Spoon’s seventh studio album Transference (Merge) shows the band recoiling from Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga’s precise, polished strategy in favor of repetitive, insistent grooves and minimalist arrangements that eschew conventional song structure and are mostly bereft of any real hooks. This change of course is not a negative thing for Spoon. Transference may initially puzzle listeners who expect a clear emphasis on melody, but the internalized approach to songwriting on display here demands repeated listens before it can be fully appreciated.

The album’s title, which refers to the Freudian concept of redirecting one’s lingering feelings for someone toward a new person, is referenced in the subject matter of songs like “Nobody Gets Me but You” and “Is Love Forever?”, albeit always obliquely. Guitarist/singer Britt Daniel’s lyrics are vague enough to allow for broad personal interpretation, and, coupled with the sparse, stripped-down arrangements. The record feels truly spatial.

The overarching atmosphere, however, is somewhat two-faced. Some songs are loose, in your face and rough around the edges, the way rock ‘n’ roll should be. Leadoff singles “Got Nuffin” and “Written in Reverse” are the best examples of the this, some of the rawest, most straight-ahead material in Spoon’s catalog. On “Written in Reverse,” in particular, it showcases a growling, irate side of Daniel’s persona seldom before seen. “Trouble Comes Running,” with its ugly, unpolished drum crashes, has all the gritty appeal of a garage demo.

On the other hand, Spoon also includes several subtle and multifaceted cuts, accentuated by haunting guitar and keyboard effects, vocals that morph and disappear without warning, and fleeting snatches of orchestration. It is these songs, with their adventurous yet restrained arrangements, that ultimately lend Transference its depth.

“Is Love Forever?” starts with a rigid drumbeat that feels off-kilter but soon locks into step with Daniel’s staccato guitar and jagged vocal delivery. “Who Makes Your Money,” the most atmospherically muted song here, rides on watery, phaser-heavy vocals and an dynamic yet subdued bass line. Meanwhile, “I Saw the Light,” which initially seems direct, morphs on a dime into a staggered coda in 6/4-time which rises in intensity thanks to Daniel’s swirling, “Helter Skelter”-esque guitar.

Daniel’s lyrics are still cryptic but contain some pointed lines. Over the lightly echoed guitar and motorik groove of “The Mystery Zone,” he asks, “How could it seem so familiar if you’ve never been there?” On the woozy synth-driven opener “Before Destruction,” he quips, “Everyone loves you for your black eye,” alluding to the pitfalls of human sympathy.

All in all, Transference may run the risk of alienating listeners on the first go-around due to the bizarre, restrained arrangements and absence of sing-along moments. But give it a few more spins and the album reveals itself as Spoon’s darkest, most unruly record to date.

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Album Review, Stream