OK, fine, I’ll admit it: I was introduced to The Shins through Garden State. As Zach Braff and Natalie Portman fell in love in suburban New Jersey, I developed a serious crush on the guitar pop of James Mercer and company.

It’s easy to mock The Shins and their folky, direct-from-Portland indie rock as the music of hipsters and manic pixie dream girls. It’s the kind of music that’s everywhere — McDonald’s even used the group’s music in a commercial — made by the kind of sensitive, bearded artists who Portlandia skewers every week.

But as I look forward to the band’s latest album, Port of Morrow, arriving next week, I think I’ve realized why The Shins have remained so talked about, and just why I love them so much.

It’s simple, really: The band makes great music.

What Mercer has done on The Shins’ past albums (and, if the singles from Port of Morrow are any indication, is poised to do again) is craft beautiful, endlessly hummable pop gems replete with simple but memorable melodies and affecting lyrics that cut straight to the heart of what it feels like to grow up in suburban America.

Take “New Slang,” arguably the group’s biggest hit. Airy guitars and an incessant tambourine jangle along behind ethereal harmonies, sounding like a road trip or a campfire sing-a-long. The music sounds like childhood, even as the lyrics (“Dawn breaks like a bull through the hall/ Never should have called/ But my head’s to the wall and I’m lonely”) speak of the inevitable alienation of growing up.

Or, for the disaffected teenager, “Young Pilgrims,” from the group’s sophomore album, Chutes Too Narrow, finds The Shins as sneering and sarcastic punks who warn that “this modern thought can get the best of you.”

Garden State, a film about 20-somethings trying to find their way in the world, hit perfectly on what makes the music of The Shins work: It’s the soundtrack to growing up and coming of age in modern America.

I had the band’s music to guide me through the pangs of adolescence, and I’m thrilled to have Port of Morrow to usher me into the messy new world of adulthood.

diversions@umdbk.com