Ty Segall, “Shining.”

Oftentimes artists in devalued genres have to be incredibly prolific just to survive. Science fiction author Philip K. Dick churned out 12 novels in a couple of speed-addled years in the 1960s. The Ramones released six albums in five years in the ’70s. They needed a steady stream of new material to put food on the table, while loftier artists were compensated to lay fallow until inspiration struck.

It’s unclear whether California rocker Ty Segall is releasing a torrent of material to pay the bills or because he can’t stop the music flowing out of him.

But the string of obscure noise duos and Bandcamp only releases in the last couple years suggests the latter. Segall’s Three Bells, released less than six months ago, explored the musician’s proggier (yes, that’s a word) proclivities. Shining puts Segall’s singer-songwriter persona center stage.

Part of the change in chemistry is due to Segall’s collaborator, old friend and filmmaker Matt Yoka, who co-wrote the album’s lyrics.

The album’s opener, “Shoplifter,” builds tension both musically and lyrically. First an urgent pulse is established by an acoustic guitar. It’s then taken up by strings, before finally being blown wide by an exuberant horn section. Segall starts the song with a simple description of the main character.

“She’s a shoplifter/ No one’s quicker/ She’s got it figured out,” he sings. But then, like any good storyteller, he simultaneously complicates the character and raises the stakes: “She’s a shoplifter/ Don’t tell her sister/ They’re trying to survive the drought.”

It isn’t until the song’s final lines that we learn what’s been stolen and who the real victim of the theft is. “Oh my sweet shoplifter/ Take me away from the counter/ We’ll run away from this shop …/ I beg you don’t leave me here/ But through the door she runs out,” Segall concludes.

Single “Possession” seems to split the difference between Segall’s proggy last offering and the more prominent singer-songwriter elements of the new album. There’s some moderately snarly electric guitar, and a classic AM radio guitar sol0, but there’s also a Beatles-esque feel to the whole thing.

While “Buildings” feels more restrained and ponderous, anchored by soft keys, the title track goes electric and almost gets heavy a couple times. “Fantastic Tomb,” which Segall was playing on his recent solo acoustic tour, bounces to a synth and bass-heavy groove. Segall again sets the scene in the song’s first verse, “‘Hello,’ he smiled and reached out his hand/ ‘Your troubles,’ he said, ‘I can understand’/ Ignored by all those pretty-looking people in suits/ In a bar on 10th street I drank, he induced,” Segall sings.

The album closes with Segall singing yet another tribute to his native California. “Another California Song” suggests mild weather and ocean views with its gentle pulse.

“Lost my mind, yeah there’s a cost/ But it’s a pretty nice place to be lost/ My confusion’s deep as that dirty sea/ But everywhere I’ve been, I’m always me,” Segall explains.

And he’s not wrong: Whether releasing prog rock virtuosity, over-the-top noise or songs that feel like the grandchildren of the Beatles and the Beach Boys, Segall’s iconoclastic musical personality remains instantly recognizable.