New York band Woods has a formula and sticks to it on Sun And Shade, which revives the jangly lo-fi folk-pop and the squeaky, childlike bleating of singer Jeremy Earl that distinguished 2009’s Songs Of Shame and last year’s At Echo Lake. It’s a strong formula, spiked with wide-eyed wonderment and shaggy camaraderie, and built on a foundation of heart-tugging hooks that linger in the mind like treasured summertime memories. Given how productive Woods has been, releasing albums at a yearly clip alongside EPs and singles, the group’s ability to churn out breezy back-porch strummers like “Hand It Out” and “Who Do I Think I Am?” seems like a given at this point. After initially being saddled with reductive “Guided By Voices meets Grateful Dead” comparisons, Woods arrives at a singular sound on Sun And Shade.