Like all the world-weary cynics just one blind date away from turning back into lovelorn romantics, those who regularly pronounce the death of indie rock are usually only one cracking record away from falling in love with the genre all over again.
And so it was with Portland-via-Albuquerque quartet The Shins’ 2001 debut "Oh, Inverted World", a record whose shimmering, trebly opulence and Left Banke-meets-Elephant 6 orchestral psych-pop attracted a delighted conga-line of devotees. In its shy way, it was as blithely off-kilter and brilliantly unexpected as Pavement’s "Slanted And Enchanted" a decade earlier.
The good news, then, is that follow-up album "Chutes Too Narrow" is nearly as loveable and every bit as charmingly, Sir Thomas More-namecheckingly literate over its half-hour span. For some Shins fans, admittedly, there’ll be a faint sense of anti-climax. Not just for the been-there-done-that factor, but because "Chutes…" is - in an unstraightforward way that sees the symphonic, stately “Saint Simon” shift shape a dozen times in under four minutes – more straightforward. It may be a career move, or simply evolution, but in replacing hazy reverb with sonic clarity and upfront vocals, this outing is – paradoxically – both more focussed and diverse than its predecessor’s mood-piece coherence.
Arguably, there’s nothing to match the stainless startlement of "Oh, Inverted World"’s “Caring Is Creepy”, but there’s plenty to cherish among the twinkles, shivers, strings, jangles and James Mercer’s scansion-defying way with a cryptic lyric. From the abrupt swell and yelped chorus of “Kissing The Lipless”, through the synthy curlicues of “Mine’s Not A High Horse” all the way to the itchy harmonica of “Fighting In A Sack” and Sixties-modernist frug of “Turn A Square”, the intent here seems to be refutation of some one-trick-pony charge. In the event, every trick here dazzles, with the lope and amble of an organ-warmed “Pink Bullet” and the pedal-steeled, Wilco-esque yearn of “Gone For Good” the most delicious.
In fact, if you can’t find something here that has you smiling and quoting the old saw about rumours of indie’s death being greatly exaggerated, it’s time to take up opera.
