What’s Cool: While recording under the name Bright Eyes for the last decade, Conor Oberst established himself as one the best young artists around. Before his 25th birthday, Oberst released two Bright Eyes albums simultaneously—I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning and Digital Ash in a Digital Urn—cementing his place in the critical pantheon of American songwriters and earning widespread comparisons to the legendary Bob Dylan. Even now, at just 28, Oberst offers his new self-titled release as proof that his career arc is still on the rise.
In case you’re unfamiliar with his extensive back catalog, Oberst is the quintessential troubled troubadour. His brand of Americana/alt-country/folk ranges from whispered confessions to rambling mid-tempo narratives to strained, indignant rage targeted at injustice and religious and political hypocrisy.
Lyrically, Oberst considers a myriad of subjects on the album, not the least of which is religion. While we don’t necessarily agree with Oberst’s theology (heaven will be boring), we appreciate his openness with his questions and doubts about God and faith. On “Souled Out!!!,” he muses on the inaccessibility of heaven as he perceives it: “You know by now, you won’t be gettin’ in to heaven.” And on the album’s closing track, “Milk Thistle,” Oberst wonders if heaven is even the kind of place he’d want to go. “If I go to heaven I’ll be bored as hell, like a little baby at the bottom of a well,” he confesses. While we don’t agree, Oberst lets us read his perceptions like an open book—affording us the opportunity to reflect on who put those perceptions there and what we as the Church are prepared to do to change the perceptions of Oberst and others.
What’s Not: Cheer isn’t Oberst’s style (“I never could get used to happy sounds,” he sings in “Eagle On a Pole”), so resolution and redemption aren’t common elements in his songwriting. The most notable exception is the hipster traveling song, “Moab,” which insists, “There’s nothin’ that the road cannot heal.”
This is OK with us, but you should know that this album doesn’t sound new. In fact, Conor Oberst sounds like it could’ve been recorded 30 years ago, so don’t buy it thinking you’ll hear traces of Coldplay or the Postal Service.
Bottom Line: Though Oberst’s common-man vocals are often shaky and less than inviting, something about Conor Oberst compels the listener to sing along through the introspection, aggression, and everything in between.
Our Rating:
Official Site: www.conoroberst.com