Lord have mercy! The Kings of Leon, three brothers raised by a Pentecostal preacher (along with their finger-strumming cousin), first traded in their Bibles for whiskey and electric guitars in 2003. But for their third full-lengther, the boys have cleaned up their act – and with more than just rehab. The frantic songs of their youth have slowed in pace, seeping through the country hills with enough confidence to prove they don’t need rapid beats to ring with true Tennessee grit.

A little bit country, a little bit rock ‘n’ roll, Leon’s raw honesty is built with guitars, drums and bass – American music as steady as a Ford pickup, just as the Violent Femmes would have it. In “”Knocked Up,”” the seven-minute storytelling opener, rebellious lines like “”She don’t care what her mama said”” drip with a devil-may-care attitude under the coarse breath of lead singer Caleb Followill. Times continues with guitar riffs and familiar song structures aplenty, but the retro format’s lack of fussiness can stray too far into the realm of classic-rock radio: The pleading repetition of “”McFearless”” makes it sound more like a cover ballad than an outpouring original. To counter this, eerie novelties like “”Trunk”” – stacked with haunting “”ooo-ooos”” ­- and the slow-tapping tambourine of “”Arizona”” twist Southern hospitality into a bluesy drool to show off the band’s dark bravado.

Times falters, but Kings of Leon keep an unrefined simplicity, giving nods to the past while maintaining a modern outlook; theirs is a burnt-out sound that – heaven help us – is worth more than one play on the jukebox.