Conor Oberst’s Self-Indulgence Pays Off
Bright Eyes sheds its moniker for a trip down Route 66.
Conor Oberst
Conor Oberst
Released on Aug 05, 2008
If there is a way to make being an artist “hard,” then Conor Oberst might have it the hardest of the big names in indie rock these days. Come on, being hailed as the next Bob Dylan when you’re a scant twenty years old cannot be an easy thing to accept when you’re planning on continuing a string of successes, both critical and commercial.
Conor Oberst seems to be taking it in stride, though. His self-titled, new solo project marks, if nothing less, progression in Conor defining not only his own voice, but sharpening his musical style while continuing to experiment.
Anyone familiar with the Bright Eyes brand will notice the departure of Mike Mogis as producer, a close friend of Oberst’s since the start of his musical career fifteen years ago. Further, the album was recorded in a mountain villa in Mexico in just over a month and entirely produced by Conor himself.
All that being said, the album opens and remains consistent with the traditional Bright Eyes mold. “Cape Canaveral” serves as a delicate acoustic bookend: Conor lets his new extremely controlled and hushed voice carry itself over a raindrop-like guitar part.
From here on in the album hits the highway entrance ramp, careening down the highway with “Sausalito”. Conor takes us on a journey across the states, from musings while sitting on a sandy beach to the standout, brief anthem, “NYC-Gone, Gone”. Thematically, most of the album is centered around this idea of movement from one place to another, while realizing that all of one’s mistakes might not be that bad. It’s a change from the attitude that we’re used to from Conor, once the poster boy for that “emo” ideal.
In fact, the entire album feels much more grown up, much more mature than anything else he’s released. When his voice quavers its way through “I Don’t Want To Die (in the Hospital)” you know that it isn’t another premature reiteration of the repeated episode in “Let’s Not Shit Ourselves” and all of Fevers and Mirrors.
The instrumentation has been upped for this solo effort as well. Every track exhibits intricate guitar parts that the listener is normally only treated to when seeing Mr. Oberst live. On the other end of the musical spectrum, songs like “Eagle on a Pole” contain keyboard parts that will haunt you into attending the next confessional at your local temple.
By the time you’re listening to power-packed standouts “Moab” and “Souled Out!!!” there’s no denying that Conor’s taken his troubador status to heart and, despite the cost of driving, there really is nothing that the road cannot heal.
Conor Oberst’s Conor Oberst is not necessarily as groundbreaking as it is a beautiful progression from an artist that was beginning to get stale. Pick this one up if you’re looking for someone to tell you all of your sins are okay; if you’re looking for a more refined folk-rock that we were waiting for from Oberst; if you want quality album from start to finish.
High Point
“Lenders in the Temple,” while it slows the rest of the power-folk down, takes the mysticism of Cassadaga and finally makes it accessible and frightening in that “can’t take my eyes off the car crash” way as it examines the realities of a relationship.
Low Point
“NYC-Gone, Gone” feels out of place. It would have been a perfect way to begin the album, Conor punching each sweater-wearing fan in the face with this triumphant and engaging one-minute burst of energy. Oh yeah, it would’ve also set the thematic tone of the rest of the album well, too.
Posted by Mark Steffen on Aug 04, 2008 @ 7:00 am
