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If the record, as a physical or digital medium, is one and its information (year of release, label, genre, tracks) is unique, the threads that bind it to listeners are tens of thousands, depending on the variable number of the latter.
The best encounters, the best records always have a personal story behind them, a backstory, an intrinsic narrative that makes them special or maybe simply different for me or for you.
And my once upon a time with The Shins I remember well, placing it within a sweltering Sicilian afternoon of many a couple of springs ago, awakening from a nap when the notes of "New Slang" from the next room played by my roommate facilitated a sweet awakening. I remember being very struck by that sweet voice and that placid vintage atmosphere, so much so that I immediately went to ask for more information.
I haven't heard from that roommate in years, but in the meantime, my relationship with The Shins has deepened over time, despite a very slow process of getting to know them, only recently reaching completion. What I would rather forget is that 19th-century house with high ceilings and pieces of plaster coming down from the ceiling of my room, making my current home look like a 5-star hotel by comparison.
"Oh, Invented World" is their debut on Sub Pop, and according to this writer, also their best work. Although Mercer’s creative vein will still be noticeable with some variations to the formula even in the subsequent "Chutes Too Narrow" and "Wincing The Night Away."
It's an album with a typically springtime candor where singer James Mercer’s passion for sixties sounds is particularly attributable to the three big Bs (Beatles, Beach Boys, and Byrds).
It's the soft pastel colors that paint a diffused dawn in the opening "Caring is Creepy" (try comparing it with the opener of the latest Heatworms and let me know). Contemplative indie-pop or rosy-tinged psychedelia, take your pick.
"One by One all Day" flaunts classic jingle-jangle Byrds-style riffs developed over an old-fashioned farm theme, followed in quick succession by two big numbers, first "Know Your Opinion!" and then "Girl Inform Me" with beautiful and candid vocal harmonies that immediately recall Pet Sounds by the Beach Boys, a main influence in the overall economy of this debut.
The shy folk sonnet of "New Slang" draws from the McCartney/Lennoy songbook era White Album, opening up to the world also thanks to its inclusion along with "Caring is Creepy" on the soundtrack of the film "Garden State".
The joyous "Girl on the Wing," one of the absolute favorites, would sound great played at sunset on one of the Californian beaches.
All things considered, the only superfluous notes are those of "Your Algebra" with its misplaced electronics.
It falls to the subdued notes of "Past and Pending" to conclude the narrative while enjoying the last lights of the day before silence and darkness fall.
The inspired pen of Mercer in crafting bright pop craftsmanship remains the minimal and fundamental common denominator of the work.
A record, yes, citational, but one that makes its lo-fi creed, its smoothness, and its playfulness its greatest strengths.
And we know that memorable things are often the most spontaneous. And let's face it, the records that manage to put you in a good mood, to bring out the sun where there is none, without being intrusive, are also the most beautiful.
Tracklist Lyrics Samples and Videos
01 Caring Is Creepy (03:20)
I think I'll go home and mull this over
Before I cram it down my throat
At long last it's crashed, its colossal mass
Has broken up into bits in my moat
Rip the mattress off the floor
Walk the cramps off
Go meander in the cold
Hail to your dark skin
Hiding the fact you're dead again
Underneath the powerlines seeking shade
Far above our heads are the icy heights that contain all reason
It's a luscious mix of words and tricks
That let us bet when you know we should've fold
On rocks I dreamt of where we'd stepped
And of the whole mess of roads we're now on
Hold your glass up, hold it in
Never betray the way you've always known it is
One day I'll be wondering how
I got so old just wondering how
Never got cold wearing nothing in the snow
This is way beyond my remote concern
Of being condescending
All these squawking birds won't quit
Building nothing, laying bricks
Hold your glass up, hold it in
Never betray the way you've always known it is
One day I'll be wondering how
I got so old just wondering how
Never got cold wearing nothing in the snow
This is way beyond my remote concern
Of being condescending
All these squawking birds won't quit
Building nothing, laying bricks
02 One by One All Day (04:08)
"Howdy, Lem", my grandpa said with his eyes closed
Wiping the eastbound dust from his sunburned brow
A life before doubt.
I smell the engine grease and mint the wind is blending
Under the moan of rotting elm in the silo floor.
Down a hill of pine tree quills we made our way
To the bottom and the ferns where thick moss grows
Beside a stream.
Under the rocks are snails and we can fill our pockets
And let them go one by one all day in a brand new place.
You were no ordinary drain on her defenses
And she was no ordinary girl
Oh, Inverted World
If every moment of our lives
Were cradled softly in the hands of some strange and gentle child
I'd not roll my eyes so.
03 Weird Divide (01:58)
Several days a month you made
The mile to my house,
And had me do a stroll with you.
Far below a furry moon
Our purposes crossed
The weird divide
Between our kinds
The silver leaves of ailing trees
Took flights as we passed so long ago
But a short time I know.
It pleases me this memory
Has swollen up with age.
Even time can do
Good things to you.
04 Know Your Onion! (02:29)
Shut out, pimpled and angry
I quietly tied all my guts into knots
Gave up on trying to make 'em
I figured it'd take 'em too long to look up and besides...
It was undeniably clear to me I don't know why
When every other part of life seemed locked behind shutters
I knew what worthless dregs we've always been
Lucked out found my favorite records
Lying in wait at the Birmingham Mall
The songs that i heard
The occasional book
Were the only fun I ever took
And I got on with making myself
The trick is just making yourself
But when they're parking their cars on your chest
You've still got a view of the summer sky
To make it hurt twice when your restless body
Caves to its whims
And suddenly struggle to take flight...
Three thousand miles north east
I left all my friends at the morning bus stop shaking their heads
"What kind of life do you dream of? you're allergic to love"
Yes, I know but I must say in my own defense
It's been undeniably dear to me, I don't know why
When every other part of life seemed locked behind shutters
I knew the worthless dregs we are
The selfless, loving saints we are
The melting, sliding dice we've always been
06 New Slang (03:51)
Gold teeth and a curse for this town, were all in my mouth.
Only I don't know how, they got out dear.
Turn me back into the pet,
I was when we met.
I was happier then with no mind-set.
And if you took to me like
A gull takes to the wind.
I'd 'a jumped from my trees
And I'd 'a danced like the king of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.
New slang when you notice the stripes, the dirt in your fries.
Hope it's right when you die, old and bony.
Dawn breaks like a bull through the hall,
Never should have called
But my head's to the wall and I'm lonely.
And if you'd 'a took to me like
A gull takes to the wind.
Well, I'd 'a jumped from my trees
And I'd 'a danced like the king of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.
God speed all the bakers at dawn, may they all cut their thumbs,
And bleed into their buns 'til they melt away.
I'm looking in on the good life I might be doomed never to find.
Without a trust or flaming fields... am I too dumb to refine?
And if you'd 'a took to me like, well -
I'd 'a danced like the queen of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.
07 The Celibate Life (01:50)
The dust from a four-day affair is now landing
All over the floor and your brown legs
The glod plated legs of my rival
Whose eyes had no reason to fall.
You led no celibate life no skirt while chemicals danced on your head.
You stole the keys to this ride and your fables are falling tonight.
Because of your struggle to make them.
Their taste for your past time is fading
Remember the girls in the middle are always the first to fall off.
You'll learn to live like a mouse,
Searching the cracks in the floor to remember
All the dregs in the crowd you barely recall
You led no celibate life no skirt while chemicals danced on your head.
You stole the keys to this ride and your fables are falling tonight.
08 Girl on the Wing (02:50)
One wound up punch of intuition
Lays flat my whole take on us.
You're the girl on the wing of a barnstormer
The tidal rabbit who came of age before her time.
We could have been so good-natured
If I'd relented when you insisted,
But we've been backed against
All nature's walls far too long.
You felt abandoned by me,
I recall the sunshine as you were melting
And though the comedy softens the fall
They still hear us with their ears to the wall.
I sold all my evil motives,
No icicles stuck in my hide.
I'm through with riddles, I know we're little
Just help me feel warm inside.
Before we take this ride and let it slide
Into the cracks where fall and winter collide.
I surrender all my gall in a song of modern love.
Remember you're the one who summoned me above any other kind.
We could have been so good-natured
If you'd relented when i insisted,
We take a week off, let the garden grow by itself
And let the gluttons fill themselves with all the worst of the gory ninties.
And though the comedy softens the fall, we still fall short.
Before we take this ride and let it slide
Into the cracks where fall and winter collide.
I surrender all my gall in a song of modern love.
Remember you're the one who summoned me above any other kind.
09 Your Algebra (02:23)
You may notice certain things before you die.
Mail them to me should they cause
Your algebra to fail.
Cole and macey lost their eyes
To the finer points
Roll them up in coffee cake and dine.
10 Pressed in a Book (02:55)
Doted on like seeds planted in rows
The untied shoelaces of you life
Nutured all year then presssed in a book
Or displayed in bad taste at the table
Problems arise and you fan the fire
While there's a wild pack of dogs loose in your house tonight.
Cut from bad cloth or soiled like socks
Add it up and basically people never change.
They just talk and make plans in the dark
Or make haste with ideas that can't help
But creep good people out
As you talk to me too much you're assuming
We don't always want what's right.
Did I strike the right set of chords? You're annoyed.
The goal is to ignite you then move on.
You feel ill at ease. you got no squeeze.
And the wise cracks won't make you more stable.
You've learned you lines to scale and to time.
Why must i remind you now i'm only less able.
Cut from bad cloth or soiled like socks
We're ordinary people we can't help but to change
As we walk and make plans in the dark
Or make haste with the boy who can't help
But creep good people out.
As you talk to me too much you're assuming
We don't always want what's right.
Two fallen saplings in an open field.
Snow padding gently on an empty bench.
An old woman's jewelry lying unadorned.
Colo nesting robins allied for the first time.
I know when you hear these sappy lines
You'll roll your eyes and say "nice try"
11 The Past and Pending (05:24)
As someone sets light to the first fire of autumn
we settle down to cut ourselves apart.
Cough and twitch from the news on your face
and some foreign candle burning in your eyes
Held to the past, too aware of the pending
chill as the dawn breaks and finds us up for sale.
Enter the fog, another low road descending
away from the cold lust, your house and summertime.
Blind to the last cursed affair, pistols and countless lies
a trail of white blood betrays the reckless route your craft is running.
Feed till the sun turns into wood, dousing an ancient torch
loiter the whole day through and lose yourself in lines dissecting love.
Your name on my cast and my notes on your stay
offer me little but doting on a crime.
We've turned every stone and for all our inventions,
in matters of love loss, we've no recourse at all.
Blind to the last cursed affair, pistols and countless lies
a trail of white blood betrays the reckless route your craft is running.
Feed till the sun turns into wood, dousing an ancient torch
loiter the whole day through and lose yourself in lines dissecting love.
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