The Amazing. A band name that seemingly packs such astounding levels of pumped-up self-belief is surely asking for trouble.

Don’t reach for ridicule-fuelled critical tar and feathers just yet, though: the Stockholm-based quartet’s music is actually worthy of a moniker that was surely picked in the spirit of heroic optimism. As strong as the Amazing’s self-titled 2009 debut and 2010’s beautifully hushed mini-LP Wait for a Light to Come were, Gentle Stream might just be their best yet, pull off as it does the almost literally amazing feat of squeezing some fresh magic from musty source materials you could’ve sworn were mined to exhaustion ages ago by the many bands that have opted to have a go at reviving near-mythical late 60’s/early 70’s West Coast vibes.

The album title’s aptly chosen. Gentle Spirit’s a soft-focus creation, its subtle charm more than compensating for a relative shortfall in high octane rock action, each spin revealing more of the album’s alluring depths. As with the recent produce by fellow Swedish psych-rock heroes Dungen (guitarist Reine Fiske and drummer Johan Holmegard put in active duty in both outfits), The Amazing prefer a calm stroll through sunlit woodlands to worshipping on the altar of Black Sabbath’s hard-riffing legacy, which most of their colleagues in musical time-travel favour. But Gentle Stream’s not quite as keen on folk-rocking bucolic scenery as the Amazing’s been in the past. Some references familiar from past output remain: ‘Flashlight’ is the latest offering in a procession of tracks so explicitly instructed by Nick Drake’s Bryter Layter they could easily unravel into idol-worshipping mimicry, were it not for the band’s uniquely compelling swing, the whole of Gentle Stream basically coming across as a particularly convincing argument for giving the drummer some.

For the most part, though, Gentle Stream resides roughly in the same deceptively laidback territory as Jonathan Wilson’s similarly titled Gentle Spirit. The British Folk/Blues Rock flavours of earlier output have largely given way to a looser sound, one that could have emitted from an uncommonly focused, Neil Young-attended jam session in Laurel Canyon circa 1970. But although the extended likes of ‘International Hair’ sprawl unhurriedly like embryonic tunes slowly taking shape in a dusty room full of sweetly scented smoke, the proceedings maintain a hypnotic momentum, as opposed to dragging or collapsing into aimless noodling. Songwriter Christopher Gunrup’s grasp on melody remains firm as ever, even when the songs slow down to the point where they threaten to evaporate altogether (‘Assumptions’) or milk the same ominous riff for longer than might be entirely wise (‘Dogs’). The band deploy their unquestionable virtuosity – apart from the ever-astounding Holmegard, Fiske is on stellar form, as evidenced by an astoundingly lyrical solo towards the end of the title track - in service of the common good, charging these tracks with a seemingly endless supply of hooks – a blare of horns here, an awe-inspiring keyboard concoction there – in the shape of unexpected twists, turns and textures.

All told, the Amazing’s obscurity on these shores is now even more baffling than before – not to mention, ahem, amazingly unfair.