Luke Lalonde’s quirky dude-next-door charisma is so potent that he elicits a smile in the most random moments—like how his falsetto swoops into a lonesome cowboy vibrato on Born Ruffians’ 2015 song “Don’t Live Up.” Then, there’s his palpable glee in stretching out every syllable in 2010’s “What to Say,” crackling the letter “K” in the word “speak.” Even when their music gets heavy, meditating on existential dread or environmental ruin, Born Ruffians always sound like they’re having fun—or at least miming happiness so the rest of us can feel it. The Canadian trio’s sixth album, JUICE, is full of these indelibly endearing moments: The chugging power-pop sing-along “Breathe” includes a rhythmic inhale-exhale, the sizzle of a vibraslap, spunky guitar spikes and hilarious observations like “Plucking hairs out of my mustache one by one/ Thought my upper lip needed some sun,” Lalonde hollers, warbles and whistles over the pile-driving art-punk attack of “Dedication,” using clickbait listicle headlines to frame our capitalistic collapse. Born Ruffians bring more primal power-trio energy to JUICE than any album they’ve released in a decade. Paradoxically, they also managed to expand their sound: the low-blowing saxophones on warped reverie “Squeaky,” comically bright synths streaming down like confetti on self-depreciating New Wave anthem “The Poet (Can’t Jam).” “The best day of your life, it has come and gone,” Lalonde softly sings on the latter track. And that’s the Ruffians Reviews for ya: grinning in the face of despair.