It’s not only the slightly rococo piano flourish of opening track “Stranded” that hints at what Liberace might have sounded like had he pursued pop music. It’s the lush, romantic tones of that piano accompanied by cascading walls of strings, the sun-dappled acoustic guitars that glimmer alongside the crisp, crystalline percussion that gives birth to such a glorious and silly vision (come on, Liberace as a twee indie-popper? It’s fun, let’s go there!). Sweden’s Sambassadeur’s keep polishing their sound, and one might worry they’ll polish the luster right out of their songs if they overdo it. As it is, with record number three, the quartet have found the perfect level of shine to suit their brand of glittering, delicate-yet-brawny pop, and even manage to work subtle, moody saxophone, glassy wind chimes and whirling synths in amongst the fog-kissed melancholy (“Albatross”), the meadow-skipping glee (“Days”) and rainy day introspection (“A Remote View”) of European. They close with a surprise treat, a sweet, intimate version of Tobin Sprout’s (Guided by Voices) “Small Parade.”