20? (profanity alert):

In 1998, philosopher T.M. Scanlon asked us a question: "What do we owe to each other?" Three years later, an album was released that -- now 20 years on -- forces us to ask ourselves a very similar question: "What do we owe to Zach Braff?" A review of Oh, Inverted World, the debut album by The Shins, presents a puzzle: should you shrug off the legacy left behind by proto-Manic Pixie Dream Girl Natalie Portman when she forced Braff's character to listen to the still-outstanding "New Slang" on her comically-large headphones in Garden State? Do you confront, head on, the impact that movie (and its still-bulletproof soundtrack) had on indie rock? When Portman excitedly declares that "New Slang" is going to change Braff's life, was she aware of the fact that, in saying it, she would forever change the lives of James Mercer and the other members of The Shins?

By the time that scene arrived, The Shins weren't exactly a new band, and Oh, Inverted World wasn't a new album. "New Slang" was already just enough of a hit to float breezily across episodes of "The Sopranos" and "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and even "Scrubs," as well as McDonald's advert that forced the band to confront claims of being "sell-outs" long before the rest of the world really came around to them. In fact, their follow-up, Chutes Too Narrow, was a year old by then, and the band had already moved on to playing "So Says I" to Rory Gilmore and a bunch of drunk spring breakers on an episode of "Gilmore Girls." This is all to say: Oh, Inverted World had a whole lifespan before Braff, in his infinite cool-indie-movie-guy wisdom, slotted "Caring is Creepy" and, yes, "New Slang" into the soundtrack for his first foray into trying to prove to the world he had more emotional depth than what was portrayed by his hit medical-comedy "Scrubs." Honestly, the fact that his goofy shadow hangs this large over Oh, Inverted World is insulting to how damn good the album is -- even if it really, probably does have to be talked about.

Forget all of that. In fact, forget about how unspeakably old it makes you feel to be reading a review about a 20th anniversary reissue of this album. What matters the most is the actual album. The good news is that this isn't just a reissue, but a remaster -- Mercer's original production has here been replaced by a complete rework at the hands the incomparable Bob Ludwig, ushering the record into a legacy of Sub Pop acts given their sheen by the maestro. If you already own a copy of the original version: I'm sorry, but you're going to need to buy it again. The remaster adds so much more depth that was missing from the original, sometimes tinny-sounding Mercer mix, and shockingly, it makes it a better album than it already was.

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