One of the more discouraging trends of 21st century music has undoubtedly been the increased deconstruction of metal into nth degree sub-genres. It was much easier to be a strident aficionado of hard rock when signifiers—be they thrash, doom, or stoner—were simple. Where once the metal legion at large identified as outsiders or the misunderstood, it has now split into myriad factions that have made it not only harder to seek them out, but harder to relate. The casual fan is not going to form an allegiance to one specific melodic death metal or djent band based solely on genre tags. After all, the music just has to be enjoyable, cathartic or, at the very least, elicit an emotional response.

Norway’s Kvelertak, whose name translates to “stranglehold,” posit that metal—much like punk—is more an attitude than a particular sound, even when the themes and lyrics are presented in the band’s native tongue. As such, Kvelertak reassemble multiple pieces of the metal mosaic for its modern sound. Following a long line of Nordic pranksters like the Hellacopters and Turbonegro, Kvelertak also exaggerate cliches and aren’t ashamed to clip from outside sources if a certain riff fits.

That’s certainly the case with their third album, Nattesferd (Roadrunner Records). While it may be rooted in the black metal tropes of their much more serious ancestors, the album draws from unlikely sources such as Stevie Nicks’ “Edge of Seventeen” in the launch of “Svartmesse.” Elsewhere, there are plenty of tricks culled from Thin Lizzy (dual guitars), Aerosmith (schmaltzy blues bombast), and Motorhead (perhaps black metal’s closest descendant) to accent what is already a formidable sound. However, if there is one influence to which Nattesferd is most indebted, it is Van Halen and the cocksure, prismatic work of that band’s namesake guitarist. A blacklight poster replete with wizards, Trans Ams, and bong smoke in song form, “1985” is the catchiest single Kvelertak have recorded yet. Singer Erlend Hjelvik growls his way through the Norwegian verses, creating a melodic anthem that might have fallen towards din in the hands of lesser contemporaries.

While Meir, Kvelertak’s 2013 sophomore record, was more immediate and better suited as a gateway into the band’s party-vibe maximalism, with Nattesferd the band has evolved. Those ’70s and ’80s touchstones that draw on the nostalgic and familiar are countered with a keen awareness of adventure and trance-like repetition. “Heksebrann” is a nine-minute epic, sprawling like Rush but never veering into prog bloat, while the title track, which translates to “Night Journey,” features a riff barrage that could also double as some kind of futuristic biker road mantra. With many of metal’s micro-genres crammed in, the takeaway is that Kvelertak may sound like a lot of things, but no one on Earth sounds like Kvelertak.