A few months ago, Soft Science released a B-side cover of House of Love’s titanic 1989 single “I Don’t Know Why I Love You.” The choice of the song and the sharp dynamism of Soft Science’s reading speak volumes about the Sacramento, Calif., quintet, a band that isn’t part of any scene or riding any trends, and hence virtually unknown outside of Northern California, despite three strong albums.

The original 1989 version of “I Don’t Know Why I Love You” found the London-based House of Love conjuring a soaring, bittersweet single that landed between eras, arriving after the demise of the Smiths’ jangle-pop and preceding the hazy overdriven guitars of shoegaze, as epitomized by Slowdive. Nonetheless, House of Love’s best music continues to resonate because it nailed something timeless: aggressive yet melancholy, piercing yet poignant.

Soft Science extends that legacy on its third album, “Maps” (Test Pattern), and adds its own twists. The soft, almost cooed vocals of singer Katie Haley bring a pop veneer. She doesn’t try to cut through the din. Instead she’s like a serene beacon in the midst of the chaos. Her poise and attention to melody keep the songs in focus, though barely — and the “barely” is crucial.

There’s something both tangibly catchy about the band’s songs, and yet they can be elusive or crushing, sometimes all at once.

Matt Levine’s guitars act as Haley’s foil, occasionally augmenting the melody, as on the shimmer of “Apart” and “Still.” And sometimes the guitarist just smashes everything in his path, as on the thrilling “There” or the wall-of-sound “Undone.”

Keyboards (played by Levine’s twin, Ross) and electronic textures augment the mood: warm ambience on “Enough,” hornlike accents in “Breaking,” the sci-fi swirl of “Diverging,” underpinned by Mason DeMusey’s earth-eating bass.

Though Soft Science is sometimes characterized as “dream pop,” that’s misleading. The feedback spills over in “Know,” and drummer Tony Cale doesn’t soft-pedal anything; the pulse is emphatic even in the most soft-focus songs.

In mining the past, Soft Science sees new possibilities rather than a chance to indulge in retro fetishism. The quintet sprinkles hooks through the concise arrangements, then cocoons them in reverberation — tantalizing, blurred, just out of reach. It’s a sound built to outlast trends.

Greg Kot is a Tribune critic.

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