James Mercer has always been something of an old soul. On the Shins’ immortal 2001 debut Oh, Inverted World, he already sounded world-weary and wan, hiding an existential dread and terror of intimacy beneath glistening melodies and vaguely vintage recording techniques a la R.E.M. circa Murmur, and never better than on “New Slang,” the national anthem for a slack generation desperately in search of either purpose or connection. Sixteen years and four albums later, with a completely rebooted band in tow, Mercer has now dropped Heartworms on the faithful like a dayglo diary unearthed from his high-school years.
In practical terms, this means some of the Shinsiest material he’s released in yonks; “Dead Alive” and the title track seem lifted whole cloth from the Chutes Too Narrow era, while “Rubber Ballz” (what with its “can’t get her outta my bed” wink/nod at prime ELO) evokes the cloudy-coffee production moves of the Shins’ debut. But the record’s strongest songs turn out to be those that veer the farthest from the Shins’ historic playbook—“Half A Million” is straight-up Cars-issue new wave (“I take the drugs, but the drugs won’t take”), “Mildenhall” is where his Broken Bells side-project meets alt-country, with Mercer waxing nostalgic about discovering music as a military brat feeling woefully out of place in an English base community, while “Painting A Hole” conjures a psychedelic carpet ride down memory lane.
The whole affair is shot through with a lyrical wistfulness Mercer hasn’t really indulged before, but that’s perfectly suited to the kaleidoscope of sounds nonetheless. Unlike early Shins albums that immediately wormed their way into our cynical indie hearts, Heartworms is a slow-burning grower that rewards repeat listens but requires some commitment to love. Much like life itself.
—Corey duBrowa
