Los Campesinos! have never lived up to the carefree cheerfulness their exclamation-pointed name would seem to imply. On the contrary, their first two albums traded in a heightened teenage angst that would have bordered on gloomy were it not for the relentlessly cheerful twee pop sound enveloping it.

Tracks like the aptly-named “Miserabilia” off sophomore mini-album “We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed” featured intertwining, irrepressibly cheerful guitars and keyboards, chiming bells, and unmistakably indie pop boy-girl vocal harmonies. And then there were the lyrics: “We got nostalgic, ended up filling shoeboxes with vomit / Collected scabs in lockets, hung them round our necks like nooses / None of it mattered / Nobody cared.”

So to say that the band’s third effort, “Romance is Boring,” is a bleaker, angrier record is no small statement. The transformation in emotional tone is partially rooted in the lyrics, which retain their visceral but heartfelt quality within an expanding thematic range. Encompassing anorexia, losing parents, meaningless sex, abuse, and loss of faith, as well as more well-trodden romantic territory, the topics at hand are far from cheerful. More than anything, though, the tonal shift comes down to the band further shedding their twee image for a noise-influenced, experimental, nearly anarchic sound foretold by guest appearances by members of Xiu Xiu and Parenthetical Girls.

The tracks which best exemplify this change populate the middle of the album. The brilliant “Plan A” retains some of the catchy, endearing elements—anchored by lead singer Gareth’s nasal vocals—that made Los Campesinos! likeable to begin with, but channels them into a two-minute blast of chaotic noise; a mash of throat-straining screeches and crackling guitar. “Plan A” is a statement—this is not the same band that, only two years ago, winnowed their way into the hearts of listeners with a chorus of “It’s you! It’s me! And it’s dancing!”

This is immediately followed by “200-102,” a daringly minimalist instrumental leading into “Straight in at 101.” “101” is a bitter, deeply uncomfortable track chronicling an empty relationship in typically adjective-laden fashion. It hints at the vivid humor that characterized earlier songs—“I think we need more post-coital and less post-rock / Feels like the build up takes forever, but you never get me off”—yet by the end Gareth still finds himself wallowing in a “sense of waste / The indignity, the embarrassment.”

These three consecutive numbers form the beating heart of the band’s new musical philosophy. “Romance is Boring” is a work of literate, deeply emotional rock which treads a careful line between the band’s two primary influences: the raw, noisy, unpredictability of Xiu Xiu and their ilk, and the listenability of early 90s indie pop.

Book-ending the more challenging center of the album are three tracks that cleave closer to the pop sensibility of debut “Hold On Now, Youngster.” Whether they’re the most interesting songs on “Romance is Boring” or not is up for debate, but singles “There Are Listed Buildings” and “Romance is Boring,” as well as blogosphere hit “The Sea is a Good Place To Think of the Future” show the band haven’t lost their touch for delightfully edgy pop songs. The title track in particular will be causing plenty of lost voices at Campesinos! concerts with its rollicking, gleefully tongue-in-cheek chorus of “You’re pouting in your sleep / I’m awake still yawning / We’re proving to each other that romance is boring.”

What is most striking about “Romance is Boring” is how much Los Campesinos! have matured. Instead of shying away from the essential disaffectedness which has always defined their albums, they have embraced it musically as well as lyrically, with a noisy, lo-fi aesthetic which is a natural fit for the band. As they become more comfortable with their new skin, it isn’t hard to imagine Los Campesinos! releasing a truly great noise-pop album. But even this slightly tentative effort doesn’t leave much room for complaint.

—Staff writer Daniel K. Lakhdhir can be reached at daniel.lakhdhir@college.harvard.edu.