The real gone-est mom in rock ‘n’ roll is back with a batch of songs proving a rocker can grow up without growing insipid. Rigby tells stories — yes, stories, no abstract wordplay or self-regarding blather — about coming to grips with adulthood and romance when hanging out until last call is no longer an option. But Fugitive is no mope-fest: The exultantly tenacious “I’m Like Rasputin” (I keep comin’ back to life) is a Dylan-style mid-tempo romp, “I Don’t Wanna Talk Love No More” is a self-explanatory garage band rave-up, the trippy “So You Know Now” recalls Barrett-era Pink Floyd and Revolver Beatles, and “Girls Got It Bad,” with its bittersweet country-rock and ’60s girl-group overtones, is the best hit of 1974 that never was. But don’t get me wrong — Little Fugitive is no retro/nostalgia spree. In a very personal manner, Rigby ingeniously reprises classic sounds without conforming to them.