Though I’ve always considered myself a Sonic Youth fan, maybe admirer is more accurate. I respect them as noise rock pioneers and indie-rock elder statesmen, but, truth be told, I find most of the music headache-inducing.

I like the band best at its tamest and most tuneful. I still listen to “Daydream Nation,” Sonic Youth’s classic 1988 album, and portions of “Goo,” its major-label debut, but I totally ignore the experimental stuff they put out on their own.

My favorite songs are the crumbs thrown to the mainstream over the years: the near-power pop of “Sugar Kane,” the Nirvana-worthy riff on “Kool Thing,” compact MTV-ready tunes like “Bull in the Heather” and “100%,” the shimmering six minute version of “The Diamond Sea” (as opposed to the tortuous 19 minute one), and “Teen Age Riot,” the generational anthem that should have broke punk three years before anybody ever heard “Smells Like Teen Spirit.”

I gave up waiting for an entire album along these lines long ago, and had almost given up listening Sonic Youth altogether. So imagine my surprise upon hearing “Rather Ripped” (Geffen), the record fans like me have been waiting for all along.

It opens with “Reena,” an unassumingly pretty song that sets Kim Gordon’s flat, airy vocals against simple chord changes and quick bluesy runs. It’s remarkable mostly for its plainness; you can actually hear the band holding back.

The first time through the album I kept bracing with every sideways chord change and wash of feedback for the inevitable blow. But it never came. Only one song, “What a Waste,” can properly be called corrosive. A few others – the aptly named “Lights Out,” for instance – even border on dull, proof that Sonic Youth hasn’t quite mastered the trick of quiet.

This isn’t to say the album lacks vigor. “Sleepin’ Around,” starts with a squealing guitar and tribal drums, then settles into a brawny Dinosaur Jr. riff complete with classic rock god solo. “Turquoise Boy” interrupts its sun-drained noodling with a couple of minutes of ferocious squall. “Incinerate,” built around simple early 1990stype chords, sounds like something Soul Asylum or the Lemonheads might have done. It’s a reminder of just how melodic that era could be.

But “Rather Ripped” also finds the band pushing farther in the direction of simple loveliness than I ever thought it would dare venture. “Do You Believe In Rapture” holds a churning storm of formless sound at bay with a metronomic beat, shimmering cymbals, petite strums, and talk of Jesus. “Do you believe in his sweet sensation / do you believe in a second chance / do you believe in rapture babe?” Thurston Moore sings. With ringing notes strewn like Christmas lights, “the Neutral” approaches the dreamy, enchanted guitar work of Explosions in the Sky or Galaxie 500.

But the high point for this fair-weather Sonic Youth fan is “Jams Run Free,” which may be the best Pavement song Pavement never wrote. Gordon alternates her slanted-and-disenchanted vocals with a chiming, loose-limb guitar melody. Then, for a few lovely moments during the chorus, they synchronize. Her lyrics contain a kind of motto for the band: “We love the jams / and jams run free.” For once, Sonic Youth exercises its freedom with a show of restraint.

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Back in 2004, the Futureheads were content to live in the past and present. Its relentlessly poppy self-titled debut combined the Jam-era punk, angular Gang of Four guitar (Andy Gill produced four of the tracks), and a cappella harmonies. The bounceable (if not quite danceable) result won the band a place alongside of-the-moment British dance rockers Franz Ferdinand and Bloc Party.

“News and Tributes” (Vagrant), its noisier, messier, and far grander follow-up, is an attempt to broaden its sound. Mostly, it succeeds.

The first song, “Skip to the End” – a three-minute dose of undeniably catchy angular pop – recalls where the band began. But the next one, “Return of the Beserker,” introduces something altogether new for the group: a barrage of inchoate thrash ing.The members have already shown they can write tight pop melodies; here, primordial angst is a promising sign of growth.

As the album progresses, the band manages to integrate the two styles, and add a few others. (The seesawing “Yes/No” is especially good.) It doesn’t all hold together, and a few of the experiments fail utterly. But it shows that the Futureheads have a pulse to go with its beat – and it may even have a future.

Sonic Youth performs on June 13 at CBGB (315 Bowery, 212-982-4052).