But the new album from this rough-hewn, ‘90s-influenced troupe — Personal Life, out Feb. 5 on Exploding In Sound — takes a chance on the mundane.

“A lot of this album is a little weird, because it’s sort of about the smaller moments as opposed to big, epic or romantic topics, like break-up songs,” says guitarist and vocalist Sam Rosenberg. “It’s more about, like, different jobs that I’ve had, or just little things like that — like walking to 7-11 to go get Cheez-Its.”

After some personnel shakeups and shifts in sound, Two Inch Astronaut — named after the phenomenon of an astronaut’s spine lengthening about two inches in space — has taken a decidedly down-to-earth approach.

But that doesn’t mean the group, which has become one of the D.C. region’s most promising bands, is thinking small. What started as an acoustic guitar and cello duo is now a full-fledged rock trio, composed of Rosenberg, bassist Andy Chervenak and drummer/vocalist Matt Gatwood. And now, they’re using a studio. A real one.

A whirlwind weeklong recording session with J. Robbins at his Baltimore studio, Magpie Cage, produced Personal Life. Previously, the trio had messed around in a friend’s “makeshift basement studio,” Rosenberg says. This new approach, though intense, came with some surprising benefits — like barring the band from overtinkering with its songs.

“We were just totally immersed in [the recording] for a week, and you’re done before you have a chance to get sick of it,” Rosenberg says. With more time to mess around, he adds, it’s too easy to lose perspective. “Before long, nothing sounds like anything.”

The band’s creative process has also changed. Previously, Rosenberg would bring skeletal demos to the band, who would work together to flesh them out through practice. This time, they worked more collaboratively, writing songs together and taking some of the pressure (and spotlight) off Rosenberg, who also writes songs under the name Mattress Financial.

Feb. 7, Two Inch Astronaut celebrates the release of Personal Life at D.C.’s Black Cat. It’ll be the latest in many local shows over the years; Two Inch keeps its calendar packed. But still, Rosenberg is leaving his mind open about what could happen. The vibe could depend on the day, the band’s state of mind, the weather.

“As many shows as we’ve played,” Rosenberg says, “as soon as I think, ‘All right, I’ve kind of got an idea of what this is like, how this is gonna go,’ the next show is just completely different.”

Two Inch Astronaut plays Feb. 7 at Black Cat with Hemlines and Laughing Man. Listen to Personal Life, below.

Listen to the Silver Spring trio’s 2013 LP and you, too, might feel a little stretched: the experimental Bad Brother packed in abrupt shifts in rhythm and melody, snaking through a succession of distorted, percussive wormholes. The band might eschew the rock-criticism cliché “angular”—“What does that even mean?”, Rosenberg asks, grinning—but it’s not a bad adjective for the hairpin turns and unexpected tonal shifts on that 2013 release.

The band jokes about what its sound could be called, throwing out monikers like “angular spaz rock,” “spazzy math rock” and “post-feelings indie.” Rosenberg says, “It’s a balance between being earnest when asked about the type of music we play, but also not wanting to get pigeonholed into a small box.”

Bassist Andy Chervenak (who recently replaced Daniel Pouridas) says “Foulbrood” might be the most accessible song from the band’s forthcoming LP by the same name, out Nov. 25. Laughingly, he calls the track an “ass-kisser.” He’s not completely joking: The song is polished, and it follows a melodic thread unlike some of the more acrobatic songs on Bad Brother. But drummer Matt Gatwood insists that “Foulbrood” still sounds recognizably like Two Inch. The drums still crack, and Rosenberg’s vocals, while bright at times, sound ringed by edginess. The hopeful notes that dot the track fade into memory by the song’s moody end, which leaves its ideas weightless, suspended in space.

On the new album, the trio says to expect a more grave, patient sound, born from a developmental and productive year as the band grew as songwriters and joined Exploding In Sound Records, whose roster includes Speedy Ortiz, Krill and Pile. When Chevarek joined the band, he lent a fresh perspective, Rosenberg says, “because Andy really has a knack for seeing the whole picture.”

For those of us still on Earth, the astronauts’ new album could bring that picture into sharper focus.

Two Inch Astronaut plays Oct. 21 at The Beehive.

That project is Mattress Financial, the Rosenberg solo act that just released a split EP with Fond Han this week on Exploding In Sound Records.

Mattress Financial’s four songs on the Private Split EP (including a digital bonus track) are largely acoustic—a big change from Two Inch Astronaut’s cranked-up, sock-full-of-marbles freakouts. Rosenberg, 22, says sidelining the electric guitar helped him overcome some personal biases.

“I’ve been making little acoustic songs as long as I’ve been playing in bands, but I’ve always been self-conscious about being perceived as one of the innumerable pricks with acoustic guitars playing precious whiny little songs,” Rosenberg writes in an email. “Not to say that I’m not one of those, but I think doing the split was a good excuse to come out of my comfort zone and be a little less self-conscious and judgey about stuff like that.”

The project’s funny name seems in line with the sense of humor scattered all over Bad Brother—see that release’s second track, “Spank Jail”—but it doesn’t come from an expected source, or at least one I detected. “The name comes from a Fat Joe song. I can’t even remember which,” Rosenberg says. (It was “If It Ain’t About Money.”) Rosenberg says he heard the song one morning before work, and thought the lyric “Wrist on froze/Thanks to the stove/Mattress financial/Banks never closed” was “so funny and amazing that I couldn’t stop laughing the entire shift.”

An especially strong track on the split is “I Do That Good,” which includes some drum help from Brendan Bessel. The tune is about “that feeling of being a kid and wanting to find your ‘talent’ or whatever is going to make you distinct,” Rosenberg says. “Kids always seem to be identified that way: Soccer Kid, Coat Kid, Kid Who Is Good at Origami, etc.”

“Put another way,” he says, “it’s about wanting to burn down your school.”

The dawn of Mattress Financial doesn’t signal the dusk of Two Inch Astronaut—on the contrary, Rosenberg says. His main band is recording a new full-length starting this weekend, and come June, it’s hitting the road with Brooklyn band Laughing Fingers.

It sounds like Rosenberg won’t have many distractions from his music in the meantime. “I’m recently unemployed and have been doing freelance yard work,” he says, “if you ever need your lawn mowed.”