Second records are tricky. Depending on the band, and the level of success generated by their debut, the fabled "sophomore effort" can call for a wide variety of approaches, from inspired evolution to full-blown identity crisis. This week's two most notable new releases reveal two very different approaches to the eternal dilemma.
When Chastity Belt released their debut, No Regerts, last year, they had only just begun taking themselves seriously as a band. Having started out at Whitman College in Walla Walla playing what guitarist/singer/songwriter Julia Shapiro describes as "short, punk, funny, upbeat songs—party music," the band moved to Seattle after graduation and found a new, more confident sound. With songs like "Seattle Party" and "Black Sail," Shapiro says, Chastity Belt were becoming "more like a band I would listen to. I don't know that I would listen to Chastity Belt's earlier recordings. Like, they were funny and fun to play, and I'm sure if I were in the audience, I'd think it was cool, but that isn't what I tend to listen to." According to Shapiro, No Regerts was split between the "earlier, funnier songs" from their college days and the slower, more melodic material that Seattle seemed to bring out of them. The record brought them a lot of attention, strong reviews, and reliably good crowds at shows in their adopted hometown and elsewhere. And rightfully so—No Regerts was obviously the work of a band with a lot going on. If the playing was a bit coltish, Chastity Belt were clearly in command of their aesthetic.
March 24 brings the release of Time to Go Home, the second Chastity Belt album, which doubles down on the "slower, more melodic" direction. When the title track was released online in January, I'm sure I wasn't the only one of the band's admirers who thought, "Uh-oh." With detuned guitar spreading out over a plodding beat, the song recalls the chorusy dourness of the Jesus and Mary Chain (nothing to complain about in itself, though it's hard to imagine as the soundtrack to a bunch of 22-year-old Pike/Pine foundlings Instagramming their amazing nights at Chop Suey). This isn't party music; it's I'm-getting-too-old-to-go-out-every-night music. Then, as Shapiro's keening voice declares that "we're gonna have a meaningful night," the song kicks into double time, a controlled release of stealth and power. Whatever misgivings the song's intro may have inspired are banished. Time to Go Home is a fantastic record, miles ahead of its predecessor, and establishes that Chastity Belt have the nerve and talent to risk alienating the people who showed up for a fun party by inviting a deeper, wider listenership to heavier, more challenging music.
Where No Regerts was playful and energized by the allure of a city and a scene, Time to Go Home is solitary, reflective, and set alight by Shapiro's super-distinctive wail of a voice. It's a powerhouse instrument, in the service of a lyrical tone that shape-shifts between lacerating dryness ("He was just another man trying to teach me something") and direct intimations of vulnerability, longing, and doubt ("And when I realize that we're all alive/I feel like I could die" and "Everything is beautiful/Because we're delusional"). Fans of Chastity Belt and Childbirth (Shapiro's side project with Stacy Peck of Pony Time and Bree McKenna of Tacocat) may find the "more introspective mode" surprising.
"I definitely wouldn't have been able to bust those out on the first record," Shapiro says of songs like "On the Floor" and "Drone." "I needed a little confidence-building before I could share that side of myself. I struggle with writing lyrics that are serious but not super cheesy. And not too emotional. I don't want to share too much. I try to keep things vague because I still don't feel comfortable sharing a ton of personal information. Those songs can work really well, but it's not my style."
Chastity Belt are currently touring down to SXSW, returning to Seattle for a record-release show at the Highline on Saturday, March 28. From May to June, they'll open a series of shows for Courtney Barnett, who also releases the follow-up to a successful debut this week. Where Chastity Belt made a slowed-down reinvention, Barnett's Sometimes I Sit and Think, Sometimes I Just Sit is a revved-up, rocked-out amplification of the miniaturized indie-rock classicism of her brilliant The Double EP: A Sea of Split Peas release. The approach reflects the huge amount of touring Barnett has done in the last couple of years, as the material is clearly geared toward shows. Her style is intact, rhyme mania, Aussie-accented singspiel, and all, but what her new record gains in oomph, it loses in intimacy. In a way, the difference comes down to tone of voice, an unavoidable byproduct of Barnett's moving from living rooms to the world's stage—which is where she obviously belongs. But still. It can be hard to watch a musician you love make a move in any direction.
Shapiro begs to differ.
"Any direction is good," she tells me. "I feel like it's weird when a band puts out a record that just sounds exactly like their last one. It's like, 'Has nothing happened to you between now and then?'" 
