The music of Times New Viking revisits one of pop’s basic and most essential building blocks: fuzz. The Columbus, Ohio, trio mines the amplifier-wrecking distortion and loose grooves of the rock ‘n’ roll that was pioneered by such 1960s bands as the Sonics and the Chocolate Watchband, and then revived by latter-day garage acts such as Supercharger, the Mummies, and the White Stripes. But Times New Viking stays free of retro nostalgia in how it updates and refines the seminal elements of this sound with its new album, “Rip It Off,” which comes out today.

The band’s 2005 debut, “Dig Yourself,” famously caused Philadelphia’s Tom Lax to resurrect his long-dormant Siltbreeze label. In the 1990s, Siltbreeze was proud home to a wide range of ramshackle, disheveled pop, from very early Guided By Voices singles to the low-fidelity bliss of the Yips and the end-of-the-world rock of New Zealand’s Dead C. Times New Viking snugly fits into this off-kilter universe, where production feels inexpensive, cut-and-paste graphic layouts smack of the homemade underground, and the music always feels gleefully visceral.

On “Rip It Off,” the band’s third album and first for Matador Records, Times New Viking wisely refrains from tinkering with its formula too much. Sixteen songs rush by in little more than 30 minutes, meaning that most clock in around the two-minute mark. That’s more than enough time for TNV to fire off a fuzzy riff, harmonize a male-female chorus that’s a little too distorted to comprehend, and move right onto the next 120 seconds of manic thrills. “Rip It Off” leaves absolutely zero room for tedium or short-attention-span ennui.

It helps that the trio keeps everything extremely simple. Every song is built around three key parts: guitarist Jared Phillips’s gift for catchy riffs and noisy warmth, drummer Adam Elliot’s timekeeping spine, and keyboardist Beth Murphy’s pop tinkling in the background. Mr. Elliott and Ms. Murphy trade vocal duties. It’s a startlingly easy recipe from which the group cooks up a bundle of sunshine pop. But the do-it-yourself vibe is what keeps the record out of the rock revival bin. Nothing about “Rip It Off” feels like it’s meant simply to re-create the analog warmth and big anthems of 1960s garage rock, even if songs such as “My Head” and “Come Together” boast guitar riffs that, in the hands of another band, could be transformed into arena rock. Instead, TNV borrows the reckless energy of the ’60s garage era on its own terms, crafting in a sound that recalls the early 1990s explosion of lo-fi underground pop.

The band’s closest kin — and a too-frequent comparison — is early Pavement. But where that band deconstructed songs with sleight-of-hand lyrics and musical allusions that often felt like winking footnotes, TNV is much more sincere. Yes, its members have their sarcastic tongues firmly in cheek when they’re titling songs “Times New Viking Vs. Yo La Tengo,” and bookending the album with “Teen Drama” and “Post Teen Drama,” but the trio never slinks away from its rousing side. Pavement often tried to short-circuit its pop instincts in its early years, shaming its pleasurable points under record-nerd baggage. Times New Viking is insolently unafraid to make noisy pop as mirthfully dizzy as pop should be — and does so without dulling its wiseacre wit.

On songs such as “Faces on Fire” and “End of All Things,” the band displays a gift for the unabashedly ecstatic. The former explodes with a churning blast of guitar and drums, over which Ms. Murphy offers the nebulous “Faces on fire and your hair is a mess / let’s do something that hasn’t been done yet” before twisting the song into fidgety romanticism in the very next line: “I can’t hear you / I just can’t wait to be near you.” In “End of All Things” — at nearly two minutes and 40 seconds, an epic in this band’s songbook — Mr. Elliott and Ms. Murphy scratch together a harmony about last calls and goodbyes, dusting the song’s surging rock with a patina of bittersweet snottiness.

Like any number of the 1990s bands to which it is compared, Times New Viking strikes an antagonistically friendly stance toward its forebears, updating their sounds while simultaneously confronting them. “Rip It Off” sounds and feels like a call to arms. With so much indie-rock gone the way of milquetoast polished pop and so many younger fans listening to a wide swath of dance and dance-floor informed music, “Rip It Off” draws a proverbial line in the sand by positing that maybe it’s not that indie-rock has gone stale, but that its practitioners just don’t have anything to say to young people. Like one of its insubordinate rockers on this new album, “Relevant: Now,” Times New Viking stakes a claim to being an ongoing part of the pertinent musical discussion by sprinting through an album of songs that celebrate, infiltrate, and castigate the carefree restlessness of youth.