Eat Skull don't quite sound like the band Peter Pan would have formed in his spare time. Perhaps if J.M Barrie's creation had decided to take a six pack up with him on one of his little flying trips, eventually falling back down to earth and taking a few bong hits with Tinker Bell inside, bathing in the hazy, rank jacuzzi. But nevertheless, Rob Enbom, lead singer and guitarist, has confessed that Eat Skull are the kids that never grew up.

Any by gum, it doesn't half shine through - songs about licking spiders and watching dead horses decompose are woven into melodic garage listened to from inside a blender. Taking four years and going through much band tension, III still manages to shine through as a relatively innocent summer album. Listening to opener 'Space Academy', the band's drastic sound change is already rather clear. Sixties festival vibes radiate from Enbom's triumphant vocal, the crunching, noodling guitar, and the steady, co-ordinated drumming.

The gritty internal blender lo-fi that caked the band's past two albums is still omnipresent, but it's been toned down drastically. Which is nice for the people that don't necessarily want their garage pop filled with trebly distortions. When the lo-fi really sticks, it's always part of the innocence of Eat Skull. It's not really a war cry or a rabid foaming at the mouth calling out social injustices and figures of authority. It's closer to an amateur, song recording session of brotherly bonding over a few beers.

But Eat Skull are anything but amateurs - they just want to sound like it at times because they feel like it. The biggest departures in sound for the band show this, on 'How Do I Know When To Say Goodnight' for example, which is in some ways the highest point of the album. When people talk about the bass being the cement between a band's bricks or Neil Buchanan's PVA between toilet rolls, this is what they refer to - it's simple and rock steady and completely carries the song, with the mystical synth skittering about hand-in-hand with the dream-like vocals.

There's a slightly odd section on III that's not entirely welcome. After tripping over the wonder and optimism of the first four tracks, the album falls into a stupor akin to a restless alcohol tinged slumber. Musically it's definitely weaker compared to the rest of the album; the high octane bounces are replaced with mournful ballads. But lyrically it isn't any sort of departure in quality. Enbom's snippets in 'They Burned You' and 'Stupid Moon' are tinged with adolescent regret and nostalgia, and wrestle between tear-jerking, tongue-in-cheek, and plainly surreal. It almost awards the mood a place on the album; but not quite.

The slower theme doesn't quite slide into place - in this case it's a gamble that didn't quite pay off. Eat Skull sound at their best with their bouncing psychedelic energy still intact, and as this middle section shows, they can manage it laughing off worries with drunken tears in their eyes. But not when they quieten down and weep with their guitars.

The mood recedes completely by penultimate joyfest 'Amnesty Box', and last track 'Catch Em Before They Vanish' is another solid kicker, but attempts to reel it in as a proper closer aren't quite achieved with sitar buzz and bongo rattle. At the end of it, we're left wondering what exactly Eat Skull planned to achieve. At its best, III almost has hints of being a summery punk opera, at worst it's four guys fumbling around to find their new sound. In a way it almost never lets up - but in another way there's hints of what the band could have possibly achieved. In simply coming as far as they have on this album, Eat Skull should be highly commended. But as good as the album is, the pressure will on for III to become a stepping stone for the band. It'll be interesting to see what happens next.