When I think of music, I think of it more so as an escape from reality; where lyrics and melodies underscore truth, resolution, and emotions through ambiguous connotations. I look, well bring my ears, to music for mutual understanding of my personal matters or simply to wind down. My tastes vary from my mood or time of day, however, I am partial to musicians of indie/folk genres.
Which bring me to The Shins. I remember my cousin telling me of a band he heard in a movie. He explained to me that this song “New Slang” will change my life. Me being a typical conformed ignorant 6th grader hadn’t a chance to see this particular film in which the band was featured prior to the discussion and figured he was just rambling about another one of his wannabe grunge bands with a lucky hit. We all know now the film of reference, the indie-music infested, awe-inspiring motion picture Garden State, and now know that I was sorely mistaken.
Five years later, I naturally have all of The Shins albums, even vinyl, and of course, a copy of Garden State. I have yet to see/hear them in person, however, it is on my Aspirations and Dreams list. James Mercer is now a demigod in my eyes, spewing lyrics which could rather be called poetry. In addition, they are one of few bands I still give respect after reaching a particular level of commercial and artistic success.
Their newest album, “Wincing the Night Away” has gone under current scrutiny and subjection to fans claiming the album to be a dramatic change of the band’s established sound. I initially agreed with this standpoint after first ear to the album, however, my thoughts quickly changed after further listening and dissection of the compilation. I do agree with some fans’ opinions of the “Alice in Wonderland theme” correlating with the album’s storyline where a boy falls asleep in ‘Sleeping lessons’, meets a girl in ‘Australia,’ and they begin their descent down the rabbit hole (’Red Rabbits’) with ‘Pam Berry’.
The burning question referenced earlier may be up to debate amongst fans, however, this Shins fan’s life has been changed for good.
Enclosed are lyrics from the opening song on “Wincing the Night Away” urging younger generations to cross the lines of the “norm” and accepted attitudes instilled by older generations and, “the old guard” that still offends.
Sleeping Lessons
Go without
‘Til the need seeps in
You low animal
Collect your novel petals for the stem
And glow
Glow
Melt and flow
Eviscerate your fragile frame
And spill it out in the ragged floor
A thousand different versions of yourself
And if the old guard still offend
They got nothing left on which you depend
So enlist every ounce
Of your bright blood
And off with their heads
Jump from the hook
You’re not obliged to swallow anything you despise
See, those unrepenting buzzards want your life
And they got no right
As sure as you have eyes
They got no right
Just put yourself in my new hooves
And see that I do what I do
Because the old guard still offend
Their pudgy hearts and slimy hands
They’ve got nothing left on which we depend
So enlist every ounce
Of your bright blood
And off with their heads
Jump from the hook
You’re not obliged to swallow anything that you despise
I wish people could actually want to talk to me and not have to talk to me. I wish I’d be more honest to myself and face the fact that I’m probably going to be alone at least for the next dragging two years of my life. Tis’ inevitable. I hate being alone. My neck fucking hurts, feels like a baboon hopped on my back and bit into spine. All I have is the project. The project that I conjured to battle all this shit. It’s there when I feel insecure. It’s haunting behind me whilst relishing happy moments. It ’s constant and oh, how I require consistency. I like the word “indie kid” instead of “hipster”. Hipster was the chosen vernacular for the old counterculture, which died. I wish I didn’t live here. Everything happens everywhere else in this damn country. No one wants to visit Florida, ironically coined the “sunshine state”. That name’s a low lure to encapsulate waywards in suffocating humidity, eye-blinding sunshine, and mind-numbing desolate “cities” without a god damn thing to do. I wish I could be smoother, as in the accepted vernacular for witty, I use plenty of lotion.
