I went through a phase during my early twenties in which I liked–nay, nearly adored–the quavery way in which Conor Oberst sang about social anxiety and meeting strangers at nightclubs (yep, despite my many protests to the contrary, I was often a bit, shall we say, emo). Then, sometime after turning twenty-five, I got to the point where, though I still had a soft spot in my heart for “Nothing Gets Crossed Out,” I snickered a little every time I listened to “Lover I Don’t Have to Love.” Then Bright Eyes turned twenty-five, but he was STILL EMO. Worse, the second time I saw him play, his once-perky butt, which had looked so smashing in those burgundy cords when he was wearing them at twenty-three, was already beginning its inevitable gravitational sag. Listening to him singing “When the President Talks to God” at Berkeley Community Theatre, I was annoyed by the lack of subtlety with which he was preaching to the choir of my fellow card-carrying liberals. In short, I was pretty convinced that I had grown up and he hadn’t.
Cassadaga opens the way many Bright Eyes records do: with a drawn-out voiceover of a someone talking to Conor Oberst. In the past, said individual has discussed such uplifting topics as, say, plummeting 30,000 feet in a plane on somebody’s birthday. My best guess this time around? On opening track “Clairiaudiets (Kill Or Be Killed),” the spirit of that plane crash victim from I’m Wide Awake It’s Morning has, apparently, come back to speak through a medium in the employ of the Cassadaga Hotel.
So, the bad news? Conor appears to still be experiencing a few aftereffects of a Nebraska coming-of-age ritual involving a hell of a lot of peyote. The good news? His new album veers away from its cheesy voodoo crystal dreamcatcher beginnings to become the the subtle, beautiful, soaring–that’s right, I said soaring–and, above all, MATURE album I somehow always hoped Young Conor was capable of creating. And, new-age as it may seem, on Cassadaga, Mr. Oberst indeed acts as a medium–he does engage in many a conversation with the dead horses beaten on previous Bright Eyes albums, but he is no longer hitting them.
Not only are Bright Eyes moving away from personal confessions and political diatribe toward lyrics involving tenderness and layered metaphor, but… Conor’s voice is no longer cracking! And, in turn, his new ability to croon with constancy is mimetic of the way in which his songs have become complex and comforting (see “If the Brakeman Turns My Way” and “I Must Belong Somewhere”) rather than coarse and (dare I say this of his earlier work?!…) complaining.
Conor’s moping about hookups (see “Lua” on I’m Wide Awake) has graduated into the character studies found in songs like “Classic Cars,” and the album’s musical arrangements are similarly well-crafted. The ballads on Cassadaga are still heavy on the steel guitar of I’m Wide Awake It’s Morning and the driving guitar found on Lifted, but they’re rounded out by careful percussion (with Janet Weiss of Sleater-Kinney, Quasi, and The Jicks playing on this album, that doesn’t surprise me) and great backing vocals. The sound’s even more country-influenced than before, but, for the more Americana-esque subject matter covered by the album, that works. Moreover, I think this is an album that the ex-emo kids and I will be able to un-ironically enjoy for many more years of our collective adulthood.
But since many of you come to this site seeking ridicule, I will leave you with this side-by-side comparison of Conor’s current hairstyle of choice with the coiff sported by Kevin Costner during the Dances With Wolves era:
Conor Oberst. Cassadaga. Dances With Peyote. Awwwww yeah.
Label: Saddle Creek
Release Date: April 10, 2007
7 Comments »
In all seriousness, i will never understand the fascination with this Conor dipshit. Granted, my experience with him has consisted of one unfortunate live show at Lawrence University in Appleton, Wisconsin, back in, like, 1998 or something, but that was so trying that i vowed to avoid him forever and ever since then.
@Joie: I definitely agree with you that this album isn’t groundbreaking. Fevers and Mirrors definitely had moments that were more unique–you know, like the background noise of “Song to Pass the Time”–but the whining, it was not unique…. especially after successive albums. My favorite track on Cassadaga is “Everything Must Belong Somewhere”–this was a high point for me during the aforementioned concert at which I started otherwise being annoyed by Conor Oberst. Hearing Bright Eyes sing about cauliflower was way more interesting than hearing them sing about poliitics.
@DJ: As I said, before this album, I think his main appeal was to the young’uns… so I’m guessing you were already Non-Emo in 1998. Go you! But I definitely don’t get the “I love you Conor” phenomenon either.
Connor Oberst is the Pearl Jam singer dude of this generation.
Eddie Veder. Ya that was his name. I will forget about Conner Oberst soon enough too.
(yep, despite my many protests to the contrary, I was often a bit, shall we say, emo)
HA!! I knew it.
WTF is emo?
i was going to review this, too, but something fucked up when i was downloading the album and i never got it. i took it as a sign from the universe that my bright eyes days were over. however, this is a fabulous review, so i’m glad i didnt sully the site with my own blabbering. great job!
Chris: Emo is the Yankees after that series against the A’s last week. That is to say, LOSERS. muahaha.
Amber: I want to say that I like your sullying, but that just sounds… you know… off…
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Comment by joiezabel — April 10, 2007 @ 9:03 pm
you just f’ing made me spit water all over my keyboard with those pics. well played, christine, well played.
i too loved bright eyes back in the day of fevers and mirrors but started getting annoyed with his whining long ago. however, i agree with you that cassadaga is a good album, one i’ll come back to occasionally even if it’s not earth-shatteringly special. the exception for me is the song “if the brakeman turns my way,” which i cannot stop listening to.