Listening to Public Strain, the excellent sophomore full-length from celebrated Calgary quartet Women, is a bit like reading Rip It Up and Start Again. Just as British critic-author Simon Reynolds offered the keys to the post-punk kingdom — the book was a primer on seminal artists from the game-changing era of 1978 to 1984 — Women provide a personal rewrite of the last 30 years (and then some) of subterranean guitar rock, scribbling all over the pages with margin notes, scratch-outs and maybe some drawings of monsters.

In previous interviews, band members have copped to post-punk inspirations such as This Heat and Josef K, and those are certainly audible in the band’s granular, atonal tone worship and jittery nervous tension. That said, it’s hard not to hear the additional touch points of Deerhoof or Curtains in the chiming, intertwining guitar lines, Sonic Youth squeal and sprawl here, and stately and understated Brian Eno pop there. Lofty comparisons, sure, but Public Strain earns them all, while transcending the typical ‘spot-the-influence’ game for a singular, consistent, tightly wound tour de force. Scrubbing off some (but far from all) of the murk of 2008’s self-titled debut, the melodic moments shine brighter than ever, balancing badass with beautiful while revealing new tricks.

On first blush, “Can’t You See” may strike one as an odd choice for an opener, with its ominous bowed guitars, cello and monotone refrain coming across like a hesitant invitation. Listen a few times, however, and that same repeated title phrase becomes a mini-mantra, worming its way into catchiness with the first of many off-kilter hooks. It’s the slower songs on this album that showcase a different side of the band, with the bleary-eyed heart-tugger “Penal Colony” dissolving into the gorgeous, glacially paced drone instrumental “Bells,” a less abrasive sequel of sorts to the self-titled album’s far creepier “Woodbine.” Later, “Venice Lockjaw” stands out like a tender love scene in the middle of a slasher film. Stunning stuff.

“Drag Open” is the album’s rockiest moment, and the primary argument for Sonic Youth comparisons, though it’s far from simple pastiche. The song’s first half bangs along on oddly tuned No Wave guitar jags before an upper register freak-out skree segues into the lulling closing suite. “Heat Distraction” proves the band members’ prog-loving instrumental skills; it’s a driving pop song delivered effortlessly over complex time signatures. On a less mathematical tip, “China Steps” builds off a lockstep rhythm with menacing vocals, clanging harmonic swells and cat-scratch guitar swipes that might be the best sound in the world. Finally, “Eyesore” ends Public Strain with a six-minute unfolding of dynamic peaks and valleys, leading into luminescent guitar chords that ring out onto infinity.

With Women’s seemingly endless touring of the last few years, putting in outlier hours like The Beatles in Hamburg, the band members have become basically unfuckwithable in terms of pure playing. Amazingly, their songwriting abilities are getting better and better, cramming more moments of deceptive inventiveness into 11 songs than many artists manage in an entire discography. Coupled with the textural production of Chad VanGaalen at his newly minted Yoko Eno Studios, it expands on the band’s undeniable strengths and continues Flemish Eye’s fire streak.