The Shins - Wincing the Night Away (LP)

Wincing the Night Away landed in January 2007 and felt like a proper coming of age for The Shins. By then they’d already had the Garden State moment that put “New Slang” into every share house in the country, so expectations were set pretty high. What arrived was a record that didn’t chase a bigger sound so much as dream one up in private, then throw the curtains open. It debuted at number two on the US Billboard 200, which was a big swing for Sub Pop at the time, and it later scored a Grammy nomination for Best Alternative Music Album. Not bad for a band who built their name on literate indie pop and chiming guitars.

The opener, “Sleeping Lessons,” still gives me goosebumps. It starts like a lullaby, soft and hazy, then gathers itself into a surge of drums and guitar that feels like stepping out from a dim room into salty daylight. “Australia” keeps the rush going with sparkling guitars and a vocal melody that sticks, the sort of song that makes you walk faster without noticing. The big single, “Phantom Limb,” is the one that people remember most, shimmering and bittersweet, a masterclass in how James Mercer turns five-dollar words into earworms. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve flipped the record just to hear that chorus bloom again.

What makes the album endure is the way it blurs daydream and detail. Mercer has said he wrote a lot of it at night and the title nods to insomnia, which tracks with the album’s half-lit mood. You hear it in “Red Rabbits,” with its watery keys and gentle pulse, and in “Sea Legs,” a slinky detour with a rolling beat, bassline and synths that pull The Shins into stranger, more rhythmic territory. “Turn on Me” is a proper classic too, equal parts jangle and bite, the kind of kiss-off that sneaks up behind you with a smile and then lands the punch.

The performances feel tight but human, like a band that knows how to leave space. The Shins were still the classic lineup here, and you can hear the camaraderie in the way keys and guitar weave around Mercer’s melodies. So much of the record was shaped at home in Portland, which explains the intimacy, but it never sounds small. There are little production touches everywhere, percussion that glints at the edges, harmonies tucked just so, the stereo field wide enough to wander. Spin it on a decent setup and the dynamics really open up, especially on the quiet to loud arcs in “Sleeping Lessons” and the glassy textures in “Phantom Limb.”

Context helps. Indie rock in the mid 2000s was moving from clubs to big stages, and this was one of the albums that proved you could make that leap without blunting the quirks. Reviews at the time were strong across the board and fans embraced the way it deepened the band’s palette. That Grammy nomination put them on a wider radar, but the music remains specific and idiosyncratic. Mercer’s lyrics still read like short stories with their own secret rules. You might not parse every line on first listen, yet the emotional aim is true.

If you’re crate digging, a clean copy of Wincing the Night Away vinyl is a sound investment. The pressing lets those layered arrangements breathe, and you really feel the low end on “Sea Legs.” Among The Shins albums on vinyl, it might be the one that reveals the most with each play. If you’re hunting for The Shins vinyl, check your local shop first. I’ve seen it pop up in a Melbourne record store more than once, and it never sits long. You can buy The Shins records online if you miss out, and it’s often bundled with their earlier titles for a neat run on the shelf. For anyone scouring vinyl records Australia listings, keep an eye out for tidy Sub Pop copies with the original inserts.

Nearly two decades on, the album still sounds like a band taking a deep breath and trusting their instincts. It’s tuneful, a bit odd in the right places, and quietly ambitious. Put it on late, lights low, and let those melodies do their slow work. Some records feel like old friends by the end of side B. This is one of them.