The Shins: Port of Morrow Review

I hadn't quite the appreciation for the lyrics on James Mercer and Danger Mouse debut Broken Bells as I do now. At the time, I was a Danger Mouse fan, and slowly became a Mercer fan through the project. It was a common tale told well: Mercer had fired his band (or went solo depending on how you look at it), The Shins, because it was time to move on. Had I been a fan of The Shins at the time, I would have called it crazy. Wincing the Night Away is a very good album, and brought a lot of acclaim to Mercer. Why throw that away?

Surprisingly, listing to Port of Morrow reveals that nothing of value was lost, harsh as that may sound. When you compare Port to Wincing, nobody should be surprised by the aqueous pastiche, but should notice the general tightening of everything that makes a Shins album so good. Mercer took a much larger chunk of the production duties this time around. After taking such a risk in leaving his bandmates behind, I have to imagine there was comfort in working with an experienced and multi-associated producer in Danger Mouse before doing it himself. 

I think it's clear he knew what he wanted in his music, and the detour gave him the self confidence to work freely. That could have ended up making Port of Morrow sound more like any number of Mouse's collaborations with other artists. This could have ended up being a Black Keys phase! But instead, Mercer seems to have learned more about himself.

The recordings are much crisper, which allows the album to create a much fuller sound without sounding like arena rock. Production overall took a noticeable tick upwards as well. The more I listen to it, the more I can hear the Buddy Holly, Beach Boys, even Elvis influences creeping in. The drumwork is smooth like a river rock, shaping the waterway without upsetting the boat. Mercer's melodies move all over the place gently, not content to maintain a rigid structure. Likewise, the lyrics will be stuffed with syllables in one spot, and spaced out elsewhere, ebbing and flowing with the melody. There's little repetition even in the choruses, so the songs cover more ground in the same space. The guitars can't escape either, having gentle reverb, while the vocals bob between distortion and clear cuts. 

Everything sounds so effortless on this album. It's most noticeable when going back to Wincing, where there's just that little extra grit and edge that pushes them towards the cadences heard on The Fratellis or The Artctic Monkeys. It's a welcome shift, as Mercer is just to polite to be working in that basement rock world. You're not laughing at a sultry line or pounding your fist in the air with the car windows down (not that you were before, but it seemed more of the band's goal). Instead, this music, like a great comedian, pulls your attention and invests you in the emotion of the stories presented. 

I'm not sure which song should have been the opener to the album, but the two best choices are played one after another. The Rifle's Spiral starts off with a melodically dissonant-in-spirit chugging drumline, sending a tingle down your spine like a great science fiction series revealing the aliens for the first time. The lyrics are appropriately dark and full of interpretation avenues as well. It's a bit easy, weirdly, to skip this song though, as Simple Song shifts the tone with such a lovely sunrise of a tune and a gleeful indulgence of the melancholy. By this point, any Shins fan should feel extremely relieved at this triumphant return.

There's a lot of frankness in these songs, from the admission of naive infatuation on 40 Mark Strasse (You had to know I wanted Something from you then, Too young to know just what it was Something more than a friend) to his observations of a depressed friend on It's Only Life (I've been down the very road you're walking now, it doesn't have to be so dark and lonesome). Again, none of this should be particlularly surprising though; Mercer has a knack for saying a lot with a little, and he seems to only have gotten better at it. Couple that with the variances in the choruses, and you've got a lot of stuff being said.

In case it hasn't yet become apparent, Port of Morrow does feel like a retread. That could be an issue for some people, I'm sure. There's a fine line between sounding like yourself and sounding like you have nothing left to say. If your mileage on his poetic waxings was already running out, you're going to be leaving pretty quickly. That's just not the case for me though; this is the sharpest, most well crafted, built-on-experience album from Mercer to date. From my point of view, it makes their previous discography feel....elementary. That's kind of a shame in a way, but it's also worth it. 

For my money, this is a rare flawless album, one of the best rock offerings ever made. I can't help but revel in the simplicity that obfuscates the impeccable craftsmanship. Mercer made a hard decision, but it paid off, and he sounds more excited than ever about the future. I'm not; I just don't see how he can possibly make something better than this. I'm giving it an extra point...it's that good.

11/10, Vinylworthy