Patiently Waiting for a Winnebago

>At the moment, the Shins are almost undoubtedly the biggest band in indie rock, with the possible exception of the White Stripes, if they count as indie. This, of course, raises the question of what we mean by the rather arbitrary term "indie rock," a question which I will answer simply by stating that the Shins won't be winning a Grammy, dating Renée Zellweger, or appearing in a film like Cold Mountain any time soon. But while they may not be a household name, the Shins are undeniably huge. Their second album, Chutes Too Narrow, has sold over 100,000 copies, they've been on Letterman, played sold out shows across the U.S. and Europe, and have been personally invited by David Bowie to hang out backstage.

I recently spoke to Shins bassist/guitarist Dave Hernandez, who noted, "Being in the Shins is insane; it's getting ridiculous." Ridiculous, perhaps, but not necessarily in a bad way. Hernandez cited the recent Letterman appearance ("a completely wonderful and horribly scary experience"), a show at San Francisco's Fillmore, and two sold out dates at New York's Irving Plaza as particularly notable signs of the band's growing celebrity. (By the way, in case you were thinking of trying to scrounge up a few tickets for this weekend's set of Irving Plaza shows, don't bother; unless, of course, you've got the $200 necessary to win a pair on eBay.)

All of this Shins-mania raises the question of exactly why it is that the band is so popular. In most cases the answer to this question might have to do with marketing, attitude, or personality, but the Shins rely on none of the above. As far as I can tell, they're popular first and foremost because singer/guitarist James Mercer writes some damn good songs. In a market dominated by glossily produced hip-hop and tuneless "pop," the idea that songwriting should be so key seems almost naïve; the fact remains, however, that everyone likes a catchy tune. The Shins' appeal doesn't stop there: unlike many of their indie-pop brethren, the band creates music with real emotional resonance. Witness the romantic desperation of "Kissing the Lipless" (the next single off of Chutes Too Narrow), the befuddled emotional listlessness of "Saint Simon," or the inexplicable, otherworldly beauty of "New Slang," the highlight track of the band's debut, Oh, Inverted World. On all of these tracks, The Shins go beyond merely entertaining the audience, instead digging a little deeper into the listener's soul.

Like the down-to-earth bunch of guys that they are, the Shins aren't going to let fame go to their heads. They still travel in modest automobiles (although Hernandez noted, "I can see us upgrading to a Winnebago"), wear t-shirts and jeans, and eat at McDonald's. I suppose this all adds to a kind of "regular guy" appeal, the same sort that is manipulatively deployed by so many deplorable country artists, not to mention presidential hopefuls. In the case of the Shins, though, such a persona isn't a façade, but simply a sign of the humility and modesty of musicians who truly love to make music to please both themselves and their fans. The Shins' music comes from somewhere real and sincere, for whatever that's worth, and no particular musical background or critical apparatuses are necessary to enjoy it; it's effortlessly straightforward and accessible, much like the musicians who create it.