The Shins' "Wincing the Night Away"

Wincing the Night Away
The Shins
Released January 23rd, 2007 (Sub Pop)
Written by S.M.

Before I come off as a ridiculous indie-snob, which I'll be the first to admit I am, let me just say this: I like the Shins, I really do. Despite their first two efforts lasting just over an hour combined, their lack of experimentation, their appearance on the SpongeBob movie, The O.C., and last but not least, Zach Braff's pet-movie Garden State-- which I actually enjoyed-- I've sucked up all my desire to write them off, to cast them and leave them behind for the teenyboppers and "New Slang" worshippers to chew on. Much more than I have for Death Cab for Cutie, I've held on. Firstly, front-man and songwriter James Mercer's lyrics are undeniably smart-- "One By One All Day" from Oh, Inverted World or "Young Pilgrims" off Chutes Too Narrow are so jam-packed with detailed and witty imagery that I'm appalled upon the realization that the songs are usually the same length as most early Beatles tunes. The band are bloody tight, too.

For me, it's always been the hinting that has kept their records on rotation. The closing tracks on their first two LPs leave me absolutely floored. They poke at something... greater? Bigger? I've always had the feeling that something was coming-- just look at the titles: Those to Come? The Past and the Pending?

Luckily, none of my holding on has been in vain, as with Wincing the Night Away, it is obvious that the Shins have started paying much more attention to detail. The first example being the album opener "Sleeping Lessons", which starts out with Marty Crandall's warbling synth and the foggiest vocals we've heard from Mercer thus far. It's tempting to get comfortable in this density, I know, but it isn't too long into the track before the drums come in with a fleeting crescendo and fucking BOOM! The loudest guitar in Shins history is strummed. This song somewhat acts a road map for the rest of the record: a hot potato constantly being tossed between bright, shiny guitar-based melodies and haunting, wandering synth lines-- though sometimes it'll just plop and stay in the middle.

The first half of the record is fairly straight-forward pop. On "Australia", the Shins sound like they've having a ball-- starting with the lyric, 'La la la la born to multiply/Or born to gaze into night skies'-- while the first single "Phantom Limb" bounces excitedly, much like classics "Know Your Onion!" or "So Says I." The tender and playful "Red Rabbits"-- featuring Chris Funk of the Decemberists on the lap steel guitar-- works as a calming interlude into the more confusing, darker side of the album. "Black Wave", with it's ghostly echos and references to cooked geese and tongue-tied streets, shows the band really experimenting with the depths of sound, while "Split Needles" sounds like a person slowly realizing the overwhelming truth of their own insanity. Mercer, in a recent interview with Billboard, stated that he wanted to address the human condition a little more on this reocrd, and it shows. There's much more to sink your teeth into this time around, mates: there's still a lot of light, but there's a hell of a lot more dark.

Coincidentally, the album closer, "A Comet Appears", is ridiculously relaxed. Gone is the cliffhanger ending, in its place a beautifully assured track that sounds like the band giving a nice sigh of relief. Could it be that this is the album the band's been hinting at being capable of? Well done, boys. Now get some sleep!

TRACK PICKS:
"Australia"; "Turn On Me" -S.M.
IDEAL LISTENING SETTING:
Summer, just after getting off work for the weekend.
BE SURE TO CHECK:
The New Pornographers, The Apples in Stereo, The Beach Boys

The Decemberists' "The Crane Wife"

The Crane Wife
The Decemberists
Released October 3rd, 2006 (Capitol)
Written by S.V.

With all the symphonic flourish of Picaresque, this album one-ups its predecessor with sheer force of Capitol's production resources. Here is a compromise between Meloy's grandiloquent conceits and the key element nascent on the band's previous record - wider scope in sound; bigger instrumentation. Producers Chris Walla and Tucker Martine have a field day, though earlier Decemberist fans baulk at these perceived quislings. Whatever. Excepting perhaps "Yankee Bayonet" and "Summer Song" there's little of Meloy's loquacious folk poesy. However, the Decemberists keep the tone of their records pretty consistent and their tenebrous beauty is undoubtedly present, if wrought differently. For instance, a track pick of mine, "Perfect Crime" is easily the album's enfant terrible if you're listening for delicate harmonies and acoustic guitars; too bad alt-rock isn't made on the floors of the CBGB anymore. Capitol seems to see some merit in being lenient with their apprised troubador's proclivities for the histrionic and the literay. Note this is the band's longest LP, clocking in at an hour. Nearly half of the album is taken up by the eponymous three-part "Crane Wife" and the 12-minute Shakespearean prog epic "The Island", the latter sporting an intro that sounds like something off of Atom Heart Mother. The rest of the album is highly urbane indie pop. There's the band, and then there's how Capitol thinks an indie rock band should be marketed. Still, I find Meloy at his most lachrymose when the album delves into the title songs. That means there's plenty to get sad about, for all you loser scene kids reading this.

TRACK PICKS:
"The Perfect Crime No. 2"; "Summersong" -S.V.
"Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)"; "Shankill Butchers" -S.M.
IDEAL LISTENING SETTING:
Right before heading across the ocean to fight a war, except not in present times because modern weaponry could pwn yr muskets.
BE SURE TO CHECK:
Neutral Milk Hotel, Belle & Sebastian, The Shins, The Magnetic Fields