Time is the nemesis of originality. The greater the number of artists who explore a particular discipline over time, the less likely it is that one of them will come up with something fresh.

J. Robbins, the singer and guitarist for the American postpunk band Burning Airlines, has made a career working out this conundrum, though he admits it might be better to not dwell on it too much. "I've always been concerned about not sounding obvious, but at the same time I prefer to trust my instincts," he says over the phone from his home somewhere in the suburbs of Washington, D.C.

For many bands, trying not to sound obvious and trusting one's instincts may work at cross purposes, but for Burning Airlines the result is a marvelous pop tension. Having sprung from the inventive D.C. punk scene of the 1980s, centered around DIY purists Fugazi and their influential Dischord label, Robbins earned his stripes as the bassist for Government Issue and then went on to found Jawbox, one of the better dissonant pop-punk bands of the early '90s.

Since the band's breakup in 1997, Robbins has divided his professional attentions between Burning Airlines (drummer Peter Moffett, bassist Mike Harbin) and production-for-hire work, which is why it took more than two years to record a followup to the band's striking debut, "Mission: Control."

He's just returned from a tour of Europe to support the new album, "Identikit." In two days, the band will leave for Japan where they will share the stage with another well-regarded Amerindie group, Jets to Brazil, as well as several important Japanese postpunk bands like Naht, whose last album Robbins produced.

Considering the knotty quality of much of the material on "Identikit" -- the off-kilter rhythms, the break-apart structures, the complex instrumental layerings -- the album certainly differs from most current indie punk, which often sounds as if it's been banged out in an afternoon. "We do mull things over a lot," he concedes. "We work on arrangements for a long time."

The complexity of the basic material would seem to make it difficult to re-create on stage. "That's why we got a second guitar player [for the tour]. There are parts on the record that were written before I could play them. I'd stumble through them before my fingers became comfortable. It became physically demanding. I could do it all now, but it wouldn't be fun. I'd prefer to be more free to communicate with the audience."

In any case, Robbins is not interested in spectacle. "I'm interested in musical depth. I want to do interesting things with the electric guitar. It's just become too easy to make obvious music on that particular instrument. If I listen back to something we did and find something generic, I automatically want to change it. My favorite moments are when something comes out and I think to myself, 'That's what we sound like.' Style is a very elusive thing."

It's extremely elusive on "Identikit." XTC-like choruses and clean vocal harmonies share close quarters with fusion instrumental gymnastics and modal musical patterns. "The Deluxe War Baby" contains elements so theatrical the song could be adapted whole cloth as a Sondheimian show tune.

"When I was a teenager, I thought rock 'n' roll was like wallpaper that other kids bought to decorate their lives until they grew up. It was shallow and stupid, a lifestyle accessory. I preferred turn-of-the-century European and American music. Movie soundtracks. Jazz."

What turned him around? "Punk rock. I saw people creating their own culture and deciding what it was going to consist of, as opposed to something they bought at the mall. And I thought, 'I don't have to stay at home all the time and play my piano and bass guitar and wonder what I'm going to do with all this energy.' It was a community I wanted to be a part of."

Though most people think of punk as an attitude first and a style second, Robbins was attracted to its musical possibilities. "Punk made me think seriously about songwriting and structure. I realized songs could be vessels for something you wanted to communicate. Before, I was more interested in the abstract idea of music in general. Now, I'm just hopelessly eclectic. The verse-chorus form still holds possibilities."

Even the bubble-gum metal of Sweet's 1973 hit "Action," which BA included on the Japanese pressing of "Identikit" as a bonus track? He laughs.

"I admit, I think it's a great song, and it's impossible to improve on the original. But it feels really good to play. In a way, it's the opposite of what we do as a band. And it may sound hokey, but I like the idea that the line 'everybody wants a piece of the action' has such a loaded meaning for the times we live in."