It’s 2013, and your favorite ’90s punk rockers have moved on, grown up, gotten married, and snagged jobs (even if they’re not those once-dreaded “temping jobs” on K Street). Well, sort of. With the release of this year’s Uncanney Valley—their first album since 2001’s pensive, melancholic Change—along with a two-night stand at the 9:30 Club in mid-October, D.C.’s beloved Dismemberment Plan is a working band again. But as middle age creeps in along with the pressures of adulthood, they’re no longer the wily boys they once were. “The heart was patient, but the mind couldn’t wait/And now it’s finally time to celebrate,” yelps lead singer Travis Morrison on album closer “Let’s Just Go to the Dogs Tonight,” like a good-natured dad on the drive home to see his wife and kids after a long day at the office. Uncanney Valley should be viewed as refreshing and invigorating, especially considering Morrison’s lyrical themes of yore: post-collegiate angst; improbable love; happiness as an elusive, unattainable concept. Here, miles away from his Emergency & I days, he sounds as though he’s finally allowing himself an existence above the “soil and cooling clay,” the life of possibilities that he never thought he deserved no matter how much its sanguine prospect “clawed, and teared, and challenged him to stay.” It’s 2013, and Morrison is happy.