Bigger, badder and more ambitious than many local rock bands, The Lucid is back with the release of a self-titled third record, a more efficient moniker and a hefty dollop of polish to its ethereal proggy sound. The Lucid may well tire of Pink Floyd comparisons as the popular Portland fivesome represents more of an evolution than rehash, but the unmistakably spacey songs often reach for “The Dark Side of the Moon.”

Take the opener “Mothership,” a patient rocker led by Dominic Lavoie’s steady pipes (which have noticeably grown up since 2008’s “Season of the Sun”). In an outro eager for a big room and a colossal feedback-ridden jam, the song surprises with a subtle hand-clap track. “Frontierless” follows with similarly demonstrative power chords, then closes with sweetly layered guitar work and triumphant organ in the coda.

The highlight, “Heliogram,” is a great example of The Lucid’s lovably amorphous song structures. The tune eschews verses and choruses, and in less than four minutes takes quite a journey. Leading off with summery pop, The Lucid spirals into a dirty breakdown that’s absolutely owned by Nate Cyr (bass) and Chuck Gagne (drums). This leads to gothic chorales for a haunted house finale, a musical effect akin to a flash thunder and lightning storm.

Say this of The Lucid — the band always keeps you on your toes. But whereas back in the early days the guys could slip into goofy scatterings of their good ideas, here they have focused on transitions that allow for greater cohesion, and can lay claim to a wholly original set. It will be exciting to hear what The Lucid does next. 

Mike Olcott is a freelance writer who lives in Portland and Boston.