Much like the band’s namesake noun, the music of Blouse feels light and airy, dancing like a garment on a laundry line in a gentle wind. On its first time out, the Portland trio wove an undulant sound with synths and drum machines. For album number two, Imperium, Blouse banned instruments that plug in. With real drums, guitars that spark and jangle, bass lines pulsing in pools of reverb, and Charlie Hilton’s ethereal voice wrapping it all in gauzy yearning, the band’s new sound is both the same and hugely different. There’s nary a hint of the earlier moody ‘80s synth vibe, and a foundation of shoegaze trippiness underlies the collection. It's going in two different directions, yet Blouse continue to balance silky and smooth with a glinting edge. At times the guitars are strummed atop politely bellowing cellos; at others, they wash over brittle, urgent snares with metallic menace. The cavernous bottom of “Capote” wades into murky goth waters, while the chasms of open space in the darkly lovely “In a Feeling Like This” offset the nearly hooky “Shelter.” “Trust Me” hints at ‘60s girl-group innocence, with the song’s hollow, delayed guitar notes melting into new-millennia angst.