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The Shins: Wincing The Night Away |
Contributed By: DeBastardz
Created On: Saturday, 27 January 2007
Hits: 107
 Wincing The Night Away Wincing is neither the clever genre recombinant exercise of their second album nor is it the perfect little self-contained universe of their debut. This is not the Shins' best album; it's their growing pains third record. James Mercer has learned how to shout his words so the folks in the back row can hear; a slightly harder edge and more confidence is on display. But it doesn't gel fully. Mercer remains one of the most talented songwriters working in pop today, and what this album proves is that the group deserves to move beyond the little Zach-Braff-movie-watching, This-American-Life-listening, Frappuccino-sipping demo-ghetto they've found themselves in. Wincing confidently bristles with stupendous and smart rock music that deserves to be enjoyed by your kid brother and your folks as much as your dorm-mates.
I was destined not to get through this review without mentioning the film Garden State so here it in the first sentence. For leading in to their third record 'Wincing the Night Away', and on the back of the films success, never has the spotlight shone so intently upon a band who were once merely the internet geeks best-kept secret. While the film undoubtedly helped to propel them to moderate fame, unlike other modern cultural beneficiaries - Jose Gonzalez for example - The Shins reputation was established on a backbone of wonderful songs, rather than striking it lucky by soundtracking some multi-coloured balls bouncing down a street on a mobile phone advert. There is undeniable substance allied to their opportunism. And it's therefore a damn fucking shame that when the whole world is watching they've delivered undoubtedly their weakest album to date.
Not that this is a bad record and they should rightfully be applauded for attempting to make a different sounding collection to 'Chutes too Narrow' and 'Oh, Inverted World'. It's no mean feat maintaining a distinguishable overall sound, but also being able to embed unique qualities in to each record and make them stand-alone. And in this regard 'Wincing...' is an achievement. The songs here are generally a little slower and there's more emphasis on mood and atmosphere rather than melody; synths and electronic sounds featuring almost as prominently as guitars. While I'm not opposed to the feel of the record per se, the rub is the quality of the songs, and a number here are less than memorable. The overall disappointment of the record is all the more surprising given the terrific clutch of opening songs.
'Sleeping Lessons' feels innocuous initially with its lolloping synth line but lurches in to a blistering last minute, and the sprightly Byrds filtered through R.E.M. pop jangle of 'Australia' is vintage Shins. Lead off single 'Phantom Limb', too, is glorious, with James Mercer's sanguine vocals floating effortlessly over the surface. If this album generally washed over me a tad, then at least they have a song that will stay with me for months to come; 'Phantom Limb' is this albums 'New Slang' moment. But these joyous snatches are only sporadic and lying within the heart of the record are clumps of discernible filler.
Their career nadir thus far, 'Sea Legs', may even be stretching it with its lumbering hip-hop beat, cheesy electronics and meandering tune, and is pretty much the first Shins song I've found myself reaching for the skip button. While the low-key and distinctly Christmas-y 'Red Rabbits' is delightful (despite arriving a few weeks too late) and the preference for more ambient songs is reflected in the eerie and arresting 'Black Wave', these are counter-balanced and overwhelmed by tracks such as the stodgy 'Spilt Needles' which also contains some of James Mercer's most heinous lyrics to date. I don't know about you but: 'It's like I'm perched on the handlebars of a blind man's bike', doesn't sit easily with me. And finally the tepid concluding number 'Comet Appears' struggles to get over the finishing line rather than bursting through the tape. Critics of The Shins have unjustly compared their effortless songwriting brilliance to the MOR pop of Crowded House, something I've always disagreed with, but the last remaining tracks fizzle away so passively that for once I can see some validity to the claim.
I usually find Shins albums grow on me slowly but surely yet after a good dozen plays I feel my faith isn't being repaid this time, and as a fan that's frustrating. The Shins will always have a special place in my heart after seeing their first ever live performance in the UK and falling for their charms on their first two records but maybe this love affair needs to take a break if it is ever to be rekindled.
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