The Wake

The 3rd album from this Portland based quartet is a step in several new directions, and several steps in the direction of pop sensible brilliance. Wincing the Night Away will leave you prone to a great deal of smiling and swaying from side to side. With the 2001 release of Oh, Inverted World, the Shins enjoyed some notoriety and critical appreciation. Two years down the road, the Shins released an intriguing blend of ’60 pop rock and folky country entitled Chutes Too Narrow. In 2004, with the movie Garden State they really hit it big, attracting new audiences they never could’ve expected. With two songs off their first album on the successful soundtrack and a healthy portion of on-screen dialogue devoted to their praising (done so by the average guy’s goddess, Natalie “I can even look cute when I’m bald” Portman), it was inevitable.

With such great anticipation for this album, many wondered if they could handle the pressure as well as they did on their sophomore effort. The Shins easily put those questions to rest on what is likely to be the finest release of the new year. Front man James Mercer hasn’t the most powerful, nor the most soulful of voices, but the man can croon. Just like the street corner groups of old, he’s always right on time. The lyrics are as good as ever, always serving their purpose, whether it be to conjure memories of love gone lost -“Turn On Me”-, or to dare you to embark upon new ventures of such -“Sea Legs”. The album’s true splendor, however, is found in the band’s willingness to take the risk of sounding different and it paid off. Opening track “Sleeping Lessons” blows the doors open and sets the tone. You feel as though you’re dreaming underwater as a scale climbing vibraphone takes you from shore. The song builds to a triumphant conclusion and leaves any honest listener in its wake with a sense of exhilaration. Other favorites with new sounds include the can’t miss sing-a-long “Phantom Limb” which boasts background banjo, “Sea Legs” with its flute intro and its Beck-like strings, and “Red Rabbits” with features that sounds to me like wood blocks dueling rain drops as percussion.

I give it an 8.8 out of 10 on Carl’s, less elitist than Pitchfork and more consistent than Rolling Stone, scale of review.