Butchies singer/guitarist Kaia Wilson, who fronts the out-and-proud lesbian punk trio, sees their second album as a fount of support for gay youth who may be too frightened or insecure to stand up for who they are.

"Music plays an important part in everybody's life, but I think youth especially can grab on to that," said singer/guitarist Kaia Wilson, 25, whose Mr. Lady label released Population 1975 in October. "[They can feel this is] passionate music, and the kind of emotion that can be felt from that [is valuable], knowing that it's coming from a voice of total support and validating your ability to have pride in who you are."

It comes as no surprise that the Durham, N.C., group already has signed on to play the first-ever Ladyfest women's art and politics conference in Olympia, Wash., in August. Population 1975 was one of several fall punk releases, including albums by Le Tigre and Third Sex, that signaled a resurgence in underground music made by women.

Songs such as "It's Over." reveal the Butchies as musical kin to such post-hardcore groups as Sleater-Kinney or Fugazi — artists who've adopted punk more as a launch pad for exploration rather than as a strict aesthetic regimen. On "It's Over.," Melissa York's funky drum rhythms undergird clean, precise guitar lines. Staccato vocals stop short on the verses; soaring vocals reign on the choruses. The band seals the package with an infectious bridge that manages to fuse the verses' clipped meter with the melodic tones of the refrain.

While that song's lyrics ride the emotions of ending a relationship, the Butchies also dive into straight-ahead punk politics on "More Rock More Talk," raising their voices together: "We're for queer youth! We're go union! We are pro-choice! And we are not scared of you."

Making History

The sense of mission that pervades the album contrasts with the band's more playful debut, Are We Not Femme? (1998). The new album's cover shows three dozen gay and lesbian young people standing together proudly, as if in a class photo for the queer youth movement.

"Our second record is a lot more serious than our first," York, 30, said. "That was definitely something we were shooting for. We didn't want to be seen as something of a joke. We wanted to embrace queerdom. The cover artwork is about documenting this history we're making."

All three Butchies have impressive punk-rock resumes. Wilson and York were members of the influential riot grrrl band Team Dresch. Bassist Alison Martlew, 25, played in Poor Valentino.

At the same time, York maintains a soft spot for the slick production of '70s-rockers Boston and Fleetwood Mac.

Wilson, meanwhile, grew up idolizing the Indigo Girls, and cites one of that folk duo's concerts as the first time she was in a supportive crowd of lesbians. Later she figured out she could create her own music. Then last year she came full circle when the Butchies toured with the Indigos.

"My idea of punk has a lot to do with DIY [do it yourself] and creating your own identity and not worrying about what other people are telling you you should be or should do," Wilson said. "I don't have those kind of rigid rules. That's the whole point to me, is not being ashamed of who you are."

Not Scared Anymore

Wilson infuses her music with that honesty, said Sarah Dougher, another Ladyfest performer who will release The Walls Ablaze on Mr. Lady, in May.

"She's very open with her creativity," Dougher said. "When she used to live in Portland, we used to hang out and play guitar all the time on the porch. ... It wasn't like it was some kind of production for her to share what she was working on with other people. Some people are super private. She's very generous."

If Population 1975 is aimed at making the tough life of gay kids easier, Martlew said people can be thankful that being out isn't quite as hard and dangerous as it once was.

"There's a little bit less ignorance, and ignorance is what leads to fear and anti-gay attacks," said the bassist, who drives a pickup with a bumper sticker that reads, "Homosexual: Every Good Southern Family Should Have One."

"In some senses I feel like it's gotten better," she said. "Because I was definitely scared for the first few years that I was out. And now I'm not scared anymore."