For the Record

Author: Melissa Marshall

In a "Garden State-esque" instant, I found myself returning to my dorm room on a cold Saturday night before the start of Spring semester. And as I stared at the four walls that surround my bed, I realized that I was indeed homesick for a place that didn't exist anymore. With such existential thoughts as this and whether a Cup of Noodles was worth a year off my life, I settled into my room on the fifth floor in a building with no elevator - visitors are as likely as a decent dinner in Atwater. And as I braced myself for an evening of contemplative insomnia, I unzipped my suitcase to discover Wincing the Night Away in its natural habitat between an over-sized tunic and a pair of skinny jeans. Suddenly the Vermont stars didn't seem as small and strange outside my skylight as James Mercer's plaintive vocals echoed through my worn speakers.

In a cinematic moment that would cement The Shins as indie-pop royalty, Natalie Portman places a pair of air-traffic-controller-inspired headphones on Zach Braff, assuring him, "You got to hear this one song. It'll change your life, I swear." And just as "Garden State" has become a staple of the contemplative alt-scene, The Shins have become the reluctant poster boys of reflective, literary rock. With their January release, Wincing the Night Away, James Mercer and the Shins have stared down the Goliath of corporate success generated by the little film that could, creating a record both experimental yet comforting, surprising yet soothing.

Wincing the Night Away may be the band's most polished attempt thanks to their growing success propelled by a quirky Natalie Portman, but oddly enough, it is also their most dissonant. Although one would never call The Shins "radio-friendly" exactly, their previous releases Oh, Inverted World and Chutes Too Narrow contained hooks and beats that had the disenchanted bopping. "Phantom Limb," the first single off the new release, is probably the track with the most pop-catch appeal, supported by the intriguing yet not alienating experimental rhythms typical to the band that is from Albuquerque but calls Portland home. Even though "Phantom Limb" may seem the safest track on the record, its lyrics are anything but conservative. In a February 2007 issue of Paste Magazine, Mercer admits that much of the inspiration for the track about two teenage lesbians and the isolation they feel at a small-town high school was "actually the alienation I felt growing-up, just re-contextualized." And these sentiments of estrangement, heartache and, ultimately, loneliness are a staple of a band whose silvery melodies have audiences smiling and bobbing.

The most accurate adjective - as well as the word the Shins keep returning to - in reference to their newest endeavor is "ghosty." Mercer even throws "creepy" in occasionally. And with the shimmery keyboards, afflicted acoustic guitars and doleful vocals reminiscent of Morrisey, the album plays like a waking dream. The opening track, "Sleeping Lessons," is definitive of the entire record. It moves from quiet keyboards to more forceful acoustic chords until it reaches an awaking electric finish. Other stand-outs include "Australia," "Black Wave" and "Spilt Needles," whose poppy alt-version could very well be the Shins next single.

Wincing the Night Away is definitely not the commercialized album that some fans hoped for, but many feared, after Portman spoke those infamous four words. The tracks are strangely comforting in their tendency to all run together in the mind, yet none deserve the coveted repeat button - the album lends itself to being played from start to finish. Wincing the Night Away is more of an experience than a vessel for a few amazing singles. "I really like the idea of kids just being able to embrace this album as opposed to it being a chart-topper or something," says bassist Dave Hernandez. "I like the idea of some teenager in New Hampshire or Ohio having this disc as something that can really comfort them. That's neat."

And as I mouthed the once strange, now familiar, lyrics to "A Comet Appears," as I finished my unpacking, I wondered if somebody's mouth across campus or across the country was forming the same syllables as mine. Wincing the Night Away won't change your life, but it will make you more connected to it.