Any aware Detroit rock band operating in the 2020s must feel the burden of the Motor City’s daunting musical history. Knowing you’re toiling in the shadow of the MC5, the Stooges, SRC, Bob Seger System, the Unrelated Segments, Gories/Dirtbombs, et al. makes you either elevate your game to stratospheric heights or resign yourself to obscurity. The three firebrands in Sugar Tradition—Antonio Keka (guitar/vocals), Kevin Irwin (drums), Arlo Betley (bass)—have chosen the former route. Even cursory listens to their output so far will convince you that they’re the real fuggin’ deal.

On their 2019 debut album, Green Machine, Sugar Tradition proved they could do more than incinerate your wig with fiery rock & roll. They get seriously funky on “Talkin’ Verve,” billow out into exploratory psychedelia on “Green Machine,” and slide into some mellow blues rock on “High Times Rollin’ On.” Now with the new six-song More Sugar (clocking in at 14 minutes), Sugar Tradition get down to basics, without the boredom that that implies. At their least interesting, they pay homage to some foundational pioneers, covering Chuck Berry’s 1961 single “Come On”—as did another ST hero, the Rolling Stones—with beaucoup fuzz. Speaking of the Stones, the swaggering, piano-laden “Rockin’ Baby” recalls them in their fresh-faced, Brian Jones days.

Better, though, is “I’m Set Free” (not a Velvet Underground cover), an amphetamine-laced stormer with some of the hottest unison “oh”s in modern rock. “Don’t Leave Me” is another ass-ablaze rock avalanche that shares DNA with the Seeds’ unstoppable “Evil Hoodoo” and the MC5’s revolutionary noisefest “Kick Out the Jams.” My fave here is “Fragile.” At once rampaging and mesmerizing garage rock in the Chocolate Watchband vein, the song’s powered by one of those primal guitar/bass riffs that you want to roll on forever. In this way, “Fragile” resembles Patti Smith Group’s phenomenal version of the Byrds’ “So You Want to Be (a Rock’n’Roll Star).” The song eventually changes keys and then spills outside the confines of its rigid structure, with Keka’s feral screams and searing guitar solo carrying it to the runoff groove.

Sugar Tradition prove that it’s possible to be in thrall to rock history without sounding like stilted re-enactors. Instead, they infuse some of the most tried-and-true rock moves with an outsized gusto, fortified by their keen understanding of the unslakable id and irrepressible intensity that sizzle at the core of no-bullshit rock. Sugar Tradition don’t care about innovation (as their name implies), but their commanding use of distortion, indelible riffs, and unharnessed energy makes that a moot point. More Sugar serves as a life-affirming display of young men flaunting peak gutsiness, bolstered by a PhD in rockology.