Attack & Release occupies a weird place in the Black Keys’ discography, a kind of demarcation between Act 1 and Act 2. The much needed change-up post-Magic Potion occurred here, through a partnership with Danger Mouse that resulted from the producer soliciting the band to write material for an Ike Turner comeback album that never came together. It was the first time the duo worked with a producer, in an actual studio. But clarity and production value weren’t the issues — the charm of those early Keys records is partially rooted in that scuzzy homemade vibe. It was more about the necessity to start varying their songs, in structure and in style, and Attack & Release is where you could first see the band making some strides in that direction. Given, everything’s relative. It seems a little funny to give a band credit for experimenting when experimentation entailed adding instruments beyond guitar and drums on your fifth album. But, hey, the textures on Attack & Release were a welcome thing, whether it was the bleary 5 a.m. opener “All You Ever Wanted” or the slight psychedelia of “Remember When (Side A).”

The issue was that, while it was a step in the right direction, the album didn’t have the songs on the same level as what would follow. It starts off strong. After “All You Ever Wanted” there’s “I Got Mine” which at that point was a retread, but a hell of a good one. “Strange Times” remains one of the band’s best songs, and probably the first time they showed us how they can craft grooves that are badass and danceable and propulsive all at once, a skill they’ve since employed repeatedly and seemingly effortlessly. Other than that, there’s one of their finest closers in “Things Ain’t Like They Used To Be,” one of the earliest examples that the band could do pretty and meditative as well as thunderous, and the most promising example of the palette expanding on Attack & Release. Otherwise, though, a lot of the middle of the album drops off, and it’s easy to look at moments as still just-another-Black-Keys album with some Danger Mouse bells and whistles. As a result, Attack & Release lives on mostly as a transition album — a crucial one in the arc of their career, but not the most essential bit of listening in their catalog.