The Shins Albums (3)
What The Critics Say
"The Shins will change your life!" That kind of proclamation is loaded with expectations when it's just one friend talking up a band to another, but it's magnified a thousandfold when Natalie Portman says it in a hit movie. The band's popularity was already growing steadily with each album they released, but Garden State took them to another level entirely -- if anyone's life was changed by that praise-filled cameo, it was the Shins'. The expectations and pressure that the Garden State effect brought could've been too much for any band, especially a delicate, wistful one like the Shins. Though they took a little while to deliver a new album, Wincing the Night Away shows that time was well spent. Neither a retread nor a radical departure -- nor, thankfully, a conscious attempt at making "life-changing" music -- the album is a mix of quintessentially Shins songs and tracks that take their sound in subtly different directions. Wincing's clean, borderline slick production is the main concession to the band's post-Garden State fame, but this just makes joyfully sad songs like "Australia" and "Turn on Me" sound like nods to jangly '80s indie instead of jangly '60s guitar pop. "Phantom Limb," Wincing the Night Away's single, is the closest the album comes to the Shins-by-numbers that some fans feared this album would be in the wake of their mainstream success, though the strange, soaring chord change that leads into the chorus keeps things from being too predictable. Actually, many of the album's best moments show how the Shins' music has progressed: "Sleeping Lessons" begins and defines Wincing the Night Away, moving from shimmery opening keyboards to strummy acoustic guitars to a rousing, electrified finish. "Black Wave" is another standout, a stark ballad with chilly layers of electronic textures surrounding James Mercer's plaintive vocals, and "Spilt Needles" continues this dark, dreamy, synth-heavy feel. The band ventures even farther from familiar territory with "Sea Legs"' slinky beat and funky bassline, and with "Red Rabbits"' keyboards, which sound like a cross between dripping water and steel drums. These experiments never feel contrived, and never get in the way of the vulnerable heart of the Shins' music (which beats loudest on the hopeful album closer, "A Comet Appears"). Wincing the Night Away is the sound of the Shins acknowledging where they've been and moving on to new territory, and while it probably won't change your life, it probably will make it more enjoyable -- and, most likely, that's all the Shins wanted to do in the first place. ~ Heather Phares, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
On the strength of their debut, Oh, Inverted World, the Shins went from indie rock underdogs to one of the style's most beloved bands, and deservedly so: it sounded fresh and timeless, universal and uniquely personal. In fact, it was so good that it may have raised expectations unfairly for their second album, especially since fans had to wait two and a half years for Chutes Too Narrow. But if the band felt any external pressures while making the album, they must pale in comparison to the emotional pressures Chutes Too Narrow expresses. Restrictions and reversals abound in the Shins' music, from the names of their albums to their short-yet-circular songs and the often contradictory feelings they pack into them. They excel at sounding happy, sad, frustrated, and vulnerable at the same time, and their best songs, whether they're fast or slow, feel like they're bursting with nervous energy. The giddy, almost unearthly bittersweetness that made "Know Yr Onion!" and "New Slang" instant classics isn't immediately evident here; though their previous songs didn't travel obvious paths, Chutes Too Narrow's tracks are even more subtle and roundabout. "I know there is this side of me that wants to grab the yoke from the pilot and fly this whole mess into the sea," James Mercer sings on the winding "Young Pilgrims." Veering off course is a recurring theme on the album, and indeed, Chutes Too Narrow isn't exactly the follow-up to Oh, Inverted World that might have been expected. It's a leaner album -- at just over a half-hour long, there are no interludes or summery atmospheres here. Even the songs that recall Oh, Inverted World, such as the bouncy but brooding "So Says I" and "Mine's Not a High Horse" -- which, with its harmonies and hovering keyboards, is one of the most typically Shins songs on the album -- feel more understated. Understated doesn't mean underdeveloped, though; Chutes Too Narrow's breezy subtlety is less accessible than the Shins' debut, but that doesn't mean the album lacks great songs. Indeed, it begins with one of the best songs the Shins have written, "Kissing the Lipless." Largely acoustic with an intricate, shifting structure, the song builds up to unpredictable spikes of guitar and an amazing high note, forged out of pain and frustration, from Mercer when he sings "You told us of your new life there." The elaborately lovely, slightly spooky "Saint Simon" sounds like Nilsson backed by the Left Banke. "Turn a Square," meanwhile, is one of Chutes Too Narrow's rockier songs, a tangle of lust and nerves that features the great lyrics "Just a glimpse of an ankle and I/React like it's 1805." Mercer has always been a uniquely witty and affecting songwriter, but the simpler sound of this album really lets his gifts as a lyricist shine through (and also gives Chutes Too Narrow an occasionally singer/songwriterly feel). "You wanna fight for this love/But honey, you cannot wrestle a dove," he sings on "A Call to Apathy," a wonderfully twangy song that recalls both the Everly Brothers and Marshall Crenshaw; on "Pink Bullets" he takes the time to notice "The cool of a temperate breeze/From dark skies to wet grass" and "The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers." These carefully crafted words and melodies keep the listener wanting, and coming back for, more. Initially, Chutes Too Narrow might seem as light and fleeting as dandelion fluff or snow flurries blowing in the wind, but its direction promises even more good things from the Shins. ~ Heather Phares, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Beginning with "Caring Is Creepy," which opens this album with a psychedelic flourish that would not be out of place on a late-1960s Moody Blues, Beach Boys, or Love release, the Shins present a collection of retro pop nuggets that distill the finer aspects of classic acid rock with surrealistic lyrics, independently melodic basslines, jangly guitars, echo laden vocals, minimalist keyboard motifs, and a myriad of cosmic sound effects. With only two of the cuts clocking in at over four minutes, Oh Inverted World avoids the penchant for self-indulgence that befalls most outfits who worship at the altar of Syd Barrett, Skip Spence, and Arthur Lee. Lead singer James Mercer's lazy, hazy phrasing and vocal timbre, which often echoes a young Brian Wilson, drifts in and out of the subtle tempo changes of "Know Your Onion," the jagged rhythm in "Girl Inform Me," the Donovan-esque folksy veneer of "New Slang," and the Warhol's Factory aura of "Your Algebra," all of which illustrate this New Mexico-based quartet's adept knowledge of the progressive/art rock genre which they so lovingly pay homage to. Though the production and mix are somewhat polished when compared to the memorable recordings of Moby Grape and early-Pink Floyd, the Shins capture the spirit of '67 with stunning accuracy. ~ Tom Semioli, All Music Guide
