There’s something essentially teenage about Blonde Redhead’s music. But that’s not a criticism of the trio, which has, for more than 15 years, rolled out a steady stream of albums, each differing from the previous in fascinating ways and always retaining a kind of youthful moodiness.

The new songs Blonde Redhead brings to Webster Hall tomorrow night, having just released their seventh album, “23” (4AD), rank as the band’s most polished dream pop yet, evoking comparisons to such 1990s mainstays as My Bloody Valentine, the Cocteau Twins, and Lush.

Blonde Redhead’s early records, such as 1995’s “La Mita Vita Violenta” and 1997’s “Fake Can Be Just as Good,” offered their youthfulness in the form of jagged, playfully dissonant sounds. Later, as the group’s songs adopted more of a new-wave character and became more hook-laden and poppy, something authentic emerged in the airy guitars, hypnotic drum beats, and brittle vocals; followers of the band realized almost immediately that it was something that had been there all along. As if to rebuff claims that they were just Sonic Youth copycats, vocalist-guitarist Kazu Makino, guitarist-vocalist Amdedeo Pace, and drummer Simone Pace had become more guitar based and melodic, but a deeper character remained, and that is what the band has developed through the years.

A Blonde Redhead song has a certain angular timing to it, which cradles the understated strangeness of Ms. Makino’s voice between guitar and drum. This is present on the new album in such songs as “Dr. Strangeluv.” Here, a simple guitar line begins the song and, as the drums jumpstart the music and release a cascade of spangles like stars, Ms. Makino arrives, singing a barely discernible “Looking everywhere, I see nothing but people.” The song takes off into the bright clouds and fields, as it were, filling out every corner of atmosphere. Dreaminess here lies in rich melodies of guitar reverb and electronic flourishes that the band uses throughout the album. More than ever, Blonde Redhead’s new songs beg a certain imagery, as though nothing could complement the music better than pictures of a landscape at dusk. And the lyrics often do as much, more complementary to the mood than crucial to it.

On “The Dress,” Ms. Makino sings, “The glow you see on my face, you do have something to do with / Fear starts creeping up when you have so much to lose / Your love wait you while you’re cheating / Lighting strikes you when you’re moving / Don’t let me wonder away.” The entire song, backed with heavy breathing and a coarse guitar riff, is an exercise in wistful understatement, and it works wonderfully.

Not every track uses the same formula, however. “SW” packs big orchestration with horns and bells to great effect, while “Spring and by Summer Fall” is as straightforward as indie pop songs get. On these grander songs, however, where the heavy touch of producer Alan Moulder is more evident, it’s hard not to notice that Blonde Redhead is really at its best on quieter tracks.

Plenty of Blonde Redhead fans started listening as teenagers, no doubt, but the nostalgic quality of this music is something neither the fans, nor the musicians themselves, have outgrown.

Blonde Redhead will perform tonight at Webster Hall (125 E. 11th St., between Third and Fourth avenues, 212-353-1600).