Citizen Mercer

[January 28th, 2004] Last fall, after touring with his band, the Shins, James Mercer returned to a burglarized home in Northeast Portland. A few days later, he discovered that someone had stolen his identity and signed up for a cell-phone plan. And as if that weren't enough stress, his band's sophomore effort, Chutes Too Narrow, was set to be released in a few weeks.

A lot to worry about. And yet, in the middle of all this turbulence, Mercer talked about the Shins' new album with nonchalance.

"Right now we're in a stage where, if we grow a lot, that would be really good, because then I'd be able to relinquish the control over some of the shit, the busywork that I hate doing," he told Local Cut. "Or if we stay right where we are, I'd be fine."

It would be easy to dismiss this as ambivalence, if it weren't for Mercer's eyes. Large, brown and almost doe-like, his eyes exude a world-worn confidence that's nearly impenetrable. It's the reason his recent troubles don't really bother him. And since Mercer is the chief singer and songwriter for the Shins, it's not surprising that Chutes Too Narrow displays the same attitude.

Clocking in at 34 minutes, the album is packed full of crisp pop that tips its hat to the same '60s British artists referenced in Oh, Inverted World, the band's first album. But where the debut masked Mercer's songwriting and vocals with reverb and delay effects, the new album puts the singer's talents out front and on display. Along with bandmates Jesse Sandoval, Dave Hernandez and Marty Crandall, the Shins have formed one of the tightest outfits in the indie world.

"I think we were a little more confident during the recording process of this one," Mercer says. "As a producer, I think I have a tendency to be a little shy with my vocal tracks. Working with Phil Ek [Built to Spill, Modest Mouse] made the vocals a bit more prominent."

The vocals may be loud and clear, but the lyrics on Chutes Too Narrow are just as elliptical as those that set the mysterious tone of Oh Inverted World. In melodic diatribes on relationships, confrontation, memory and fantasy, Mercer creates a warped, Dali-esque vision of the world. It's a world in which characters slip and drift past one another, stumbling through the night alone, carrying self-destruction in their veins, until they crash into the ground. Oddly, with this inverted world, Mercer comes close to capturing the real world.

"It's been a book you read in reverse," Mercer sings on "Pink Bullets," "So you understand less as the pages turn/ Or a movie so crass and awkwardly cast that even I could be the star." Does that sentiment sound familiar? It should.