The days of grunge are gone, but Seattle is having a revival with four musicians from Albuquerque, New Mexico. The music is still full of post modern thought and disillusionment, but this time it’s sung to a different tune. Let me introduce to you The Shins, a splendid gem in the Seattle based Sub Pop’s terrific line up. Their sound is ‘sunny’ music, and on the surface it evokes the jubilant bouncing of toddlers screeching in ecstasy. However, below the pop surface, the lyrics speak strong dissent for the trials and tribulations that have beset them in their journey wield their angry heads. Disillusioned indie rock stars that they are now after their last release, Oh, Inverted World in 2001, they have fought the label of ‘sell-out’ after supporting themselves with corporate advertising dollars, lost long time friends to the jealousy of success and felt the lonely tumult of fame. Not that they were caught off guard. Theirs’ has been a long ride to the top; nine years, ten records and three name changes since their inception, The Shins are finally reaching mass audiences. The sound of their music implies that they have moved past reason, into the pop folly of human experience, but their lyrics remain full of raw dwellings.
What is joyous is experiencing The Shins unchained on this release. The boys are comfy enough after their last stunning album to let their hair down a bit and trust in their honed abilities. The result on
Chutes Too Narrow is magnificent. Layered guitar, ever changing keyboards, and a loose larynx give their crafted works the merit and ease they reach for. The intensity of the messages of the lyrics don’t dominate the songs’ every sound and turn them into brooding, angry assaults on the senses. Instead, in the vein of the old expression ‘Kill them with kindness’, Mercer reaches out his lofty falsetto, crying out in the most ethereal boy sounds that exist, to croon amid a band that uses all its abilities to congeal the vision of each track. Mercer sings of the harshest casualties in life so sweetly that the only reaction left is empathy. The stunning variety of keyboards by Marty Crandall, the timing of beats laid down by Jesse Sandoval and the workings of Mercer’s guitar with Dave Hernandez on bass are all so talented that there isn’t one element that is the sustaining breath.
"Kissing the Lipless," "So Says ," and "Turn a Square" are the sure fire hits; they are upbeat and cascade between one fun riff to the next. The variety of unique key changes, instrumental sounds and harmonies wields something akin to well timed jokes in a group conversation, and you can’t help but enjoy yourself along with them. There are quite a few songs that are variants on these bolts of energy, and James Mercer takes some songs down acoustically to evoke intimacy in his messages. There are even country ditties on "Pink Bullets" and "Gone for Good." "Those to Come" conjures the sensitive melancholy of Nick Drake. All in all, they are playing against a standard that they themselves set with their last release, and the results are undiluted glances into the boyish enjoyment of varieties of pop sound. This is music for music lovers.
