Out of Long Island’s emo-core scene, Brand New is rare animal in that it can be labeled “emo” and “pioneering.” “Deja Entendu,” released in 2003, took the band in a softer direction, where more emphasis was placed on aesthetic and songwriting. To many fans, “Deja Entendu” remains one of the best pure emo albums ever. It stripped away much of the faux peppiness and unnecessary angst-ridden screams that have plagued the genre. As a follow up and as the band’s third album (first on a major label), it does not disappoint.

In “The Devil and God...”, Brand New deliver a more eclectic album that once again focuses on songwriting and brooding voices, interweaving themes of insanity, distance and familiar emo archetypes. The themes are placed among songs that range from moments of pop-punk angst akin to their first album to intimate confessions that defined their second.

The theme of self-loathing that characterized “Deja Entendu” is defined in darker but equally refined ways. In “Millstone,” frontman Jesse Lacey laments in his crooning whisper: “I used to be such a burning example, I used to be so original” while on “Sowing Season” Lacey captures a losing battle with alcoholism, combining verses of twangy guitar and rock anthem.

In “The Devil and God...”, Brand New runs off emo clichés faster than a kid with Buddy Holly glasses and eye-liner. Woman as source of pain? Check. Violent imagery? Check. Girl with metaphorical gun in hand? Check. Yet, there is depth and musicianship that allows them to just barely get away with it. They don’t seem to avoid the clichés or play them for irony (as some of their contemporaries have done); instead, they embellish or revel in the standardized themes of the genre. “You Won’t Know” recalls the disgust with relationships of their first album, “Your Favorite Weapon,” while “Not the Sun” serves up its tale of heartbreak with a poppy falsetto

chorus that seems like a riff by The Darkness.

But they break new ground here too and are just smart enough to pull it off. “Degausser” brings up the theme first introduced in the name of the album — a reference to a schizophrenic friend of the band. In addition to Lacey’s distant crooning, the wailing and childish back-up vocals that scream “Take apart your head” suggest the schizoid demonic forces afflicting the subject. The song builds to a pathetic, broken repetition of “The storm is coming” that is arguably the emotional centerpiece of the album.

For old fans, “The Devil and God...” is full of the biting lyrical cunning that Brand New is famed for. In “Millstone”, the singer laments, “I used to know the name of every person I kissed/ Now I made this bed and I can’t fall asleep in it.” In “Limousine,” Laceys sings, lullaby-like: “We found your man/ he’s drinking up/ he’s all-american/ And he’ll drive/ He’s voluntarily graced/ to end your life”

Their more esoteric and referential lyrics set them apart from other emo acts, and yet in their striving for difference the major miscue of the album is the instrumental tracks. “Welcome to Bangkok” and “Untitled” flex their musicality, offering a complex use of distorted guitars and keys while aiding the overall aesthetic and atmosphere of the album. Overall, though, they are forgettable and will likely not appeal to their lyric-focused fan base.

For fans of: Taking Back Sunday, Death Cab for Cutie, Dashboard Confessional.