Dave Matthews Band has always thrived onstage— harnessing their own improvisational freedom and feeding on the kinetic energy of an audience.

In the studio, far from their safety net of freewheeling interplay, they’ve employed every imaginable method to spark that flame—from the sleek production of 2001’s Everyday to the cut-and-paste experimentation of 2005’s Stand Up. With their most recent LP, 2012’s Away From the World, the group stepped backward after the late-career triumph of 2009’s Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King, piling on watered-down “state of the world” messages and stripped-back balladry (“Mercy,” “Sweet”).

Come Tomorrow is a fiery course-correction, full of vigor, funk, absurdity and poignancy—the singular mix that makes this band so unique to begin with.

The absence of violinist Boyd Tinsley (whose hiatus due to health and family concerns has been seemingly made permanent since he was publicly accused of sexual misconduct in May) may have only emboldened the remaining players, particularly the rhythm section—even the 27-second throwaway “bkdkdkdd” is loaded with  first-class groove. In the funky camp, there’s “Again and Again,” propelled by Stefan Lessard’s fuzz-bass, and the horn-fueled “Can’t Stop,” a deep-burning riff monster first teased onstage in 2006. “Samurai Cop (Oh Joy Begin)” is sappy, sure—a vague plea for mutual understanding in a fucked-up world—but the arrangement is a dizzying triumph of tension and release, with Tim Reynolds layering arena-sized guitar echo over Carter Beauford’s intricate drum fills.

It’s thrilling to hear DMB toy with new sounds: “She” is a bluesy, snarling rocker; and vintage keyboards percolate throughout the LP, such as the spooky “Virginia in the Rain.” Like Away From the World  before it, the album loses steam when Matthews operates in solo mode— closing ballad “When I’m Weary,” with its plodding piano and strings, seems destined to soundtrack an ASPCA commercial. But those lapses are brief.

A more representative moment is jazzy centerpiece “Idea of You”—a live favorite for a little over a decade— and the tear-jerking track appears here in an anthemic final arrangement, anchored by radiant horns and the frontman’s youthful romantic memories. “Make me feel like a kid again,” Matthews sings late in the LP. It’s an appropriate lyric—a summation of Come Tomorrow’s rejuvenating spirit.