#44 The Shins

Everything appeared to be too complicated. Everything unfolded with a surprising simplicity. While we awaited the group’s response, everyone told us that it would be impossible and that they would never want to do it. We were a bit nervous while we imagined how we were to manage the whole thing, taking a look at the longtime, tattooed manager who grimaced to let us take the band for a little walk in the street. We were a bit nervous about the wait and the group’s ambiguous delay. And even when they went up to their rooms, we were left with our feet dangling with anticipation. They had to make a setlist? For a Take Away Show?

In the end, all such apprehension was foolish. The group came down the stairs, and right from the moment when the bassist passed me the bottle of white wine he had brought for the stroll, everything seemed to unfold naturally. As we began to walk and the two guitarists had fun passing around the melodies from ‘Love’, James Mercer told us that they had prepared eleven songs. ELEVEN SONGS...we really only had the time for FIVE at most. So here it is, within the efficient frame of two videos.

Rue des Trois Frères, Montmartre (Amélie Poulain’s neighborhood). Amidst the lazy agitation and seething strollers of the neighborhood, people move through slowly, taking their time surrounded by tourists who love to look, and vendors and habitants who love to show. It’s in this corner of the city where improvisation comes alive in boundless measure. Accordions, Tzigane violins, and gypsy jazz feed the particular urban decorum. So why not an American pop band? And as The Shins planted themselves among a packed café terrace to play ‘Turn Me On’, a certain wise enthusiasm emerged. James Mercer and crew joked about the amount of small change this song could bring home on the street, which wasn’t too farfetched of a musing. In front of the café, and later as we neared the intersection, fans emerged with excited surprise and tourists and Parisians alike flickered with delight as the abnormal scene punctuated their quiet Sunday with pleasant curiosity. After every song, I handed out flyers, and as everyone reached out for one I had the feeling I was promoting a band that my buddies had just started.

The crowd was relatively patient. We went into the courtyard of Mathieu and Raphaëlle’s building. Two girls watched from behind a window trying to hide themselves and an elderly woman opened her shudders for just enough time to decide that the music was pretty pleasant and not explicitly bothersome. We started to go up, explaining to the two fans that we had to leave them there, and as we came out onto the apartment’s balcony we realized the crowd of fans was still hanging about the street, waiting.

In a little less than an hour, The Shins never stopped playing and never asked any questions. It wasn’t a session. It was more a sunny, leisurely afternoon, a spring debut with a group that fit right into the rhythm of the day.

This Take Away Show, with five songs naturally tied together, ended in an apartment bathed in sunlight. A setting that resembled The Shins and their music: simplified, joyful, and familiar, the kind that goes without saying and falls to the ears naturally. James Mercer’s songs never give off the vibe of trying to overwhelm us beyond measure, or start a revolution. Instead, they seem to be soluble and laden with instinct. While The Shins were in Paris they enjoyed the beautiful weather and put it to music. That was everything we asked for. I’m sure you can imagine that we left with wide smiles. And without a doubt, thanks to these five guys from Portland, a handful of tourists left telling themselves that Paris is a pretty cool city.