For their third studio album, Nashville’s Kings of Leon have continued their mastery of ‘70s rock. The three sons of a Pentecostal minister, the Followill brothers – Nathan, Caleb and Jared – and their first cousin Matthew, have taken the lessons of the Rolling Stones’ Sticky Fingers and the boogie of Black Oak Arkansas and applied them to their own old-fashioned southern rock sensibilities, luxuriating in unhurried mid-tempo rockers (“Fans,” “The Runner”) that bump and shuffle with loose grooves and unrequited woman love. Imagine the Black Crowes without the machismo. The opening cut, “Knocked Up,” sets the tone. At seven minutes, it’s the album’s longest cut and leisurely unfolds to reveal singer Caleb driving his pregnant girlfriend out of town in his Coup DeVille just a step ahead of her irate family. There’s no braggadocio, only calm reassurance that the future will somehow work out. And that’s Caleb’s attitude throughout. He sings in a forceful croon that rises in passion but never gets too involved in what could be a heavy situation. He turns slightly demented for the psychedelic R&B of “My Party” and seems genuinely sad to close things up with the calming brood of “Arizona.”