AFI emerged in the late 1990s, one of the last bands to get in on that era’s wave of anthemic, melodic emo bands. At the time they were known for Misfits-worship and Alan-Forbes-drawn album covers. Since then, AFI has charted repeatedly on Billboard, made a gold record, and developed a cult-like following of fans. Through it all, it’s retained a consistent lineup and expanded its songwriting palette from album to album.

AFI fits easily in a category with bands like Green Day and Jawbreaker. All gained ground as ostensibly “punk” Bay Area bands that were nevertheless destined for mass acceptance, amid accusations of selling out. That all three found success under the auspices of marketability is likely no coincidence.

If the band’s new album, Bodies, slyly nods to the leering punk menace of the Sex Pistols, the connection is subtle. AFI’s punk pedigree expresses itself only through occasional passages on Bodies. “Escape from Los Angeles,” for example, features a Misfits-like shout-along. The Cure-like “On Your Back” benefits from a surprising sped-up middle section. However, the sound of the album as a whole is not easily categorizable as punk rock. In other words, AFI has come a long way since covering Filth songs at 924 Gilman Street.

For one thing, singer Davey Havok’s earnest voice ranges over the emotional spectrum, providing limited airtime for pure aggression and oppositional cynicism. For another, the songs are ensconced in cold—though very persistent—production. Havok’s vocals feel slightly disconnected from the mix, as though he’s trapped behind glass.

“We watch the world set itself backwards; now in reverse, you spit out big words,” Havok pleas on “Twisted Tongues,” damning everyone. But Hunter Burgan’s (does anyone call him Bargain Hunter?) throbbing bass comes through powerfully on Bodies, while Jade Puget goes for aggressive clarity with his lead-centered guitar work. Drummer Adam Carson’s precise drumming rounds out an effective formula.

Also on the plus side, the songs differentiate themselves adequately. Anthemic choruses are used to bring together experimental elements and unseemly guitar figures, creating a pleasing tension and resolve. Unlike previous AFI records, there are no standout hits, no choruses that strike with instant, infectious appeal; though “No Eyes” and “Looking Tragic” come close. While this could present a barrier, it also serves to highlight AFI’s attention to craft.

Consider “Escape From Los Angeles,” an uneasy balance of horror-punk and Jimmy Eat World. AFI’s choice of synthesizer even sounds like the one from the John Carpenter movie. “Escape,” one of the sunnier offerings here, is buoyed by Havok’s urgency and melodic inspiration. “I got to get out of L.A., I got to get out of L.A.,” he wails. One wonders if they felt the same way about Berkeley 20 years ago.

Puget once said, “It’s a lot easier to write an aggressive punk song than it is to write something that has melodic hooks.” That’s debatable, but at least AFI’s commitment to artistic growth seems sincere. For Bodies‘ crisp 36-minute runtime, it covers considerable ground. It’s thematically familiar ground for AFI, but the band nevertheless achieves its aims by using a respectable variety of sonically layered techniques.

On Bodies, Havok’s performances are plaintive. Arrangements dwell in an airless, reverb-soaked atmosphere. The album works on repeat, as the hooks are frequent and not toothless. Content is familiar but well-played. A handful of songs explore themes of love and devotion. Still, they all seem to end abruptly, as though the band didn’t bother writing endings.