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Review: Conor Oberst’s “Conor Oberst”

August 14, 2008 1:24 PM

  Conor Oberst has earned his rep as an over-achieving, earnest singer-songwriter with wisdom beyond his years.  His records under the name Bright Eyes have shown him to be a smart musician with a great deal of range.  His 2005 double-whammy delivery of “I’m Wide Awake It’s Morning” and “Digital Ash in a Digital Urn” still comes to mind when thinking about the scope of his vision.  Last year’s “Cassadaga” was an even stronger set of songs.  For every indie kid who thinks Oberst is the second coming, there’s someone who doesn’t quite get it. 

I must admit, I was on the fence about Oberst for a while.  He has always written great songs, and some of them really popped out at me and successfully screamed at me to like them.  (I’m thinking mainly of the amazing “Lover I Don’t Have to Love” from the 2002 album “Lifted or the Story is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground.”) Otherwise, his dead-seriousness, excessive wordiness and vocal delivery tended to test me.  I am pleased to say that particularly with “Cassadaga” and this new, self-titled record, Oberst has finally won me over.  He’s always been worth listening to, but with these two recent releases he’s really upped the bar.   

Why isn’t this new album a Bright Eyes record?  Oberst was always the main focus and most constant force behind Bright Eyes anyway. Maybe the absence of producer and frequent Bright Eyes associate Mike Mogis is the reason.  Maybe it’s a contractual issue, considering that this album was released by Merge and not Oberst’s own Saddle Creek label.  Whatever the reason, this has been dubbed a self-titled solo record. 

The record opens with the quietly folk-y “Cape Canaveral.” His voice is much less shaky then on earlier releases.  At 28 he’s a steady pro and he’s now got more of a sense of what works for him.  On softer songs like this one, he sounds more and more like a hushed answer to Modest Mouse’s Isaac Brock. They have similar methods of phrasing. 

Next is the country-rocker, “Sausalito,” It’s a road-ready number which mentions riding through the desert, sleeping on an air mattress, “living on a houseboat” and the place “where pilgrims disappear.” It’s effective and it’s likely to catch your ear. 

“Get-Well-Cards” would make an excellent single.  Ever since Oberst first appeared, he’s been saddled with being called this generation’s answer to Dylan.  Sometimes people are quick to judge and hastily throw such labels out there, but in this case, it really does fit.  He sings like he’s talking and his lyrics are filled with rich imagery.  Here, he has quotable, Dylan-esque lines like, “I want to be your bootlegger, / I want to mix you up something strange. / Braid your hair like a sister, / Name you like a hurricane.”  These lines are in the midst of a song which includes images of surfers and suntan lotion.  The song centers on a lazy postman who has stopped to take a nap in the sand.   Oberst’s love of complexity and intelligent phrasing keeps him from being pop-y.  His words don’t roll off the tongue very easily, but if he gets the tune right, he gets a winner.  This track is one of those winners!

“Lenders in the Temple” is another haunting, folk-driven number.  This album is probably labeled “alternative” by most, but it’s really a rather straight-forward, old-school singer-songwriter record.  Here, there’s an ominous feeling all around.  “Watch your back, the Ides of March / Cut your hair like Joan of Arc / Disguise your will, they’ll find you out / And when they do / Watch your back.”  The track has sparse instrumentation with just Oberst on guitar and Nate Walcott on organ, but that just makes the whole thing even more spooky.  It’s a definite highlight. 

“Danny Callahan” is another country-esque song about a little boy dying, in need of a bone marrow transplant.  Again, Oberst continues to align himself with a folk-driven state of mind with the lines,  “The love you feel you carry inside can be passed. / See your brother in the gutter, you reach out your hand, / Ask, ‘How are you getting on alone?’”  Oberst may be young, but he’s got an old soul. 

“I Don’t Want To Die (in the Hospital)” is one of the best songs on the record.  It’s a rambling country-blues song with lines like, “Can you make a noise to distract the nurse? / Before I take a ride in that big black hearse, / I don’t want to die in the hospital. / You better take me back outside.”  Considering the subject, it’s really upbeat and catchy.  It’s a riotous stomper.

“Eagle on a Pole” is typical of most of Oberst’s work.  Again, it’s a slow-growing, folk-driven number that eventually is given lift by the addition of a full band. If you liked his album, “I’m Wide Awake It’s Morning,” you should be able to appreciate this track, too. 

“NYC – Gone, Gone” is a minute-long Celtic-flavored rocker.  It’s one of the hardest songs on here, and though it’s brief, it leaves an impression with it’s authoritative, stomping rhythm. 

“Moab,” though amped up for mass-appeal, would make a good old-style folk song.  You can picture the song stripped down to its essence, with just Oberst and a guitar, singing the line, “There’s nothing that the road cannot heal.”  It’s almost as if Oberst was born during the wrong time.  It gives him a nice niche when you consider that this brand of songwriting is rare these days. 

The album’s only piece of filler is next.  It only lasts fifty seconds, but its inclusion is questionable. The track is called “Valle Mistico (Ruben’s Song),” and it consists of a conch shell being played in three bursts by Ruben Mendez Hernandez.  I have no idea what inspired Oberst and Mendez Hernandez to put this on the album.  It’s extremely off-putting and the sound it produces is a little like that of a busted trumpet.

Thankfully then comes “Souled Out!!!”  Oberst just released a video for the track, and though it’s pretty buried in the album, it makes for an excellent single.  Again, lyrically, Oberst is like a mad-lib king with his random references.  He mentions “an electric razor,” “a grassy knoll,” “some magic bullets,” “poison apples” and “the dusk of man,” It’s hard to decipher his exact meaning, but it’s an intriguing listen.  The core of the song is about getting into heaven.  During the chorus, Oberst sings, “You won’t be getting in,” while Rilo Kiley’s Jason Boesel sings a driving, “you know by now” repeatedly in the background.  For Oberst, this track sounds downright jubilant.  He even sounds like he’s about to crack up once or twice.  It’s nice to hear him obviously having fun.

The album closes with “Milk Thistle.”  It’s yet another timeless acoustic guitar number.  It’s another song which centers around death and the afterlife. Oberst can get pretty heavy. “I keep death on my mind / Like a heavy crown. / If I go to heaven / I’ll be bored as hell / Like the little baby at the bottom of the well.”  Listening to this, I think Oberst must be a real blast at parties!! (Hahaha!) Nevertheless, although it is dark, this is also one of the album’s high points. 

Conor Oberst has grown up well and he only gets better with age. Even if you might have once been unsure about some of his earlier Bright Eyes records, you should give this a chance.  This is one fine record from Omaha, Nebraska’s former indie-rock teen prodigy.   

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