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When the Kings first arrived on the garage-rock scene a few years ago, they whipped up so much interest right away, nobody really minded that they weren’t any good. Their Grizzly Adams beards, their Bible-thumping family background — it all fed into their fans’ Huck Finn fantasy of unspoiled backwoods boogie. Well, the back story was cute for about five minutes, but the songs didn’t get the job started until their second album, the stunning (and sorely underrated) Aha Shake Heartbreak. From the sounds of the record, the Kings had met a few girls on the road and gotten their asses handed to them. There were all sorts of new energy and wit in the Strokes-Skynyrd music as the Kings unloaded their fantastic groupie tales — the girl in “Soft” would paint your toes and let her “perfect nipples” show, while the girl in “Milk” had an hourglass body and lent you her toothbrush.

Because of the Times is even better — the band doesn’t fuss with any sort of rootsy purism, which is why it gets away with retro moves that would sound soft from anybody else. Matthew Followill keeps getting more expansive dynamics out of his guitar, with salutary Euro influences — “Charmer” has a driving guitar riff swiped from Wire’s “Ex Lion Tamer,” probably by way of Blur’s “Song 2.” “Trunk” has loony, high-lonesome oooohs over some serious swamp-blues guitar murk. Folksy ballads like “Fans” and “The Runner” remind you that the Kings could be as facile as the Black Crowes or Nickelback if they were content to aim that low. Caleb’s vocals continue to defy description: Steppenwolf’s John Kay after a nad-crushing motorcycle crash? The Band’s Richard Manuel with scurvy? Dave Matthews getting ripped apart by wolverines? And did I mention the lyrics? Ridiculous little monsters, they are, fit to get brutally stomped into the dirt, which in fact is exactly how Caleb treats them. How good can the Kings of Leon get? On Because of the Times, they’ve already gone further than anybody could have guessed.

ROB SHEFFIELD