For a band only five years into a promising career, Yuck are unusually haunted by the ghosts of albums past. Their debut was released to widespread acclaim, placing Yuck at the vanguard of an alt-rock revival. However, the departure of frontman and foremost songwriter Daniel Blumberg hit hard and, despite guitarist Max Bloom’s best attempts to fill the void, the band’s follow up Glow & Behold stuttered – it felt predictably derivative and stale for the majority of its shoegazey duration.

So, to Yuck’s make-or-break third album Stranger Things. It was recorded live by the band themselves in an attempt to recapture the frazzled energy that made Yuck such a delight, a gamble that has unequivocally paid off. Gone are the gratuitous production frills and back are the beautiful, hazy melodies of their debut. Perversely, the rougher production gives Stranger Things a poppy immediacy that makes the songs far more memorable.

At the album’s core is its overriding honesty. Bloom’s need to be accepted by fans of Yuck’s previous incarnation is evident from lead single ‘Hold Me Closer’, as Bloom despairingly sings “I wanna be the only best friend that you have”. In this regard, ‘I’m OK’ is a highlight. The power chords and trebly bass line are pure Weezer and with lines like “I’ve got thousands of problems / I don’t have any answers”, it endearingly and enjoyably channels millennial mediocrity.

Yuck have always been a band unafraid to wear their early 90s influences on their sleeve: the title track with a typically grungy pre-chorus of “I hate myself”, has Teenage Fanclub written all over it and ‘Cannonball’ shares a title with a song by The Breeders. But to dismiss Stranger Things as mimetic is surely to miss the point; of course it revels in harking back to a time before its creators had even started school. Instead, the album’s beauty lies in its ability to be more than the sum of its influences, as it injects a much needed dose of vitality into an otherwise stale genre. Yuck can’t claim to be reinventing the indie-rock wheel but the album is dynamic and pacy enough to keep the listener on their toes.

That said, Stranger Things does have limitations: Bloom’s voice lacks the volatility of Blumberg’s and as a consequence the shouty ‘Only Silence’ slips back into the monotony that dogged Glow & Behold. Moreover, several songs outstay their welcome such as the aptly named ‘Swirling’, which can sadly be dismissed as a poor My Bloody Valentine imitation, leaving the album in danger of reaching a rather limp conclusion. Fortunately, closer ‘Yr Face’ is a triumph: a heady cocktail of 90s alt-rock elements as a soaring melody and emotive lyrics build a wall of nervous energy which ultimately collapses in a blizzard of fuzzy guitars.

Certainly, Stranger Things is a welcome return to form. Still, I fear that its significance may well be in the renewed attention it brings to the band’s excellent debut. While rarely hitting those stratospheric heights, the decision to return to the their initial success’ blueprint has been vindicated. Maybe this album will allow Yuck to finally step out of the shadow cast by their former selves.