Conor Oberst - Dark Publications

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Product Description
Conor assembled a special band in Mexico for this recording, known amongst themselves and to friends as The Mystic Valley Band. Members include Nate Walcott, Jason Boesel, Macey Taylor, Nik Freitas, and Taylor Hollingsworth. The result is his first solo album in thirteen years, following "Water" (1993), "Here's To Special Treatment" (1994), and "Soundtrack To My Movie" (1995). In that time, he's recorded and performed in Commander Venus, Park Ave., Desaparecidos, and most notably Bright Eyes, his main musical vehicle for the past decade.

Album Description
Conor Mullen Oberst is a US songwriter, singer, poet who is best known for his work in Bright Eyes. He has also played in several other bands, including Desaparecidos, The Faint, Commander Venus, Park Ave., and his newest project Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band.

Customer Reviews: Read 14 more reviews...

4 out of 5 stars

"Victory is sweet, even deep in the cheap seats..." August 5, 2008
19 out of 22 found this review helpful

By this time, we should all know what to expect from Conor Oberst - be it from a solo recording or a Bright Eyes record. For all of his talent, his skill as a songwriter, the changes from album to album have continually been slight (with the glaring exception of Digital Ash in a Digital Urn which was released simultaneously with a more traditional record). On this, his first solo record since wrapping up puberty, Oberst is in fine form; never straying far from his roots or his fans' expectations, but keeping things interesting enough to warrant several repeat listens.

Album-opener, "Cape Canaveral," is the exact opposite of what we heard from Oberst's last outing, Cassadaga. It's minimalist approach to music is nothing like the grand productions of that record, and honestly, it's a bit refreshing to hear. The song's "choruses" are a bit reminiscent of "We Are Nowhere and It's Now," but when your catalogue of songs is as massive as Oberst's, a bit of overlapping is bound to occur. Conor sings of things he's learned in his life, saying, "You told me victory is sweet, even deep in the cheap seats," and the imagery that it projects is truly beautiful. "Sausalito" takes a different approach. The upbeat, country rocker is more reminiscent of Johnathan Rice (ugh) or even Joe Walsh. It's catchy lyrics and subtle harmonies give it a light, bouncy aesthetic that is often missing from Conor's work. Could it be that Oberst is actually having fun on this record?

That definitely seems to be the case. While most of his musical career has been weighed down by the heaviness of his lyrics or the subject of his songs, Conor Oberst is much lighter all around. This is never more apparent than on the album's centerpiece, "I Don't Want to Die (In the Hospital)," a frantic, piano-led freak out that finds Oberst singing of his last moments, pleading, "I don't want to die in the hospital/ you gotta take me back outside/ help me get my boots back on!" He later explains, "They don't let you smoke and you can't get drunk/ all there is to watch are these soap operas," and I totally get it. "Get-Well-Cards" is more toned-down, but still rather light. Oberst sings, "I wanna be a bootlegger/ wanna mix you up something strange/ braid your hair like a sister/ maim you like a hurricane." Funny stuff, Conor. Funny stuff.

But even though it has its lighter moments, Conor Oberst still manages to meet the expectations of his fans who like their music a bit dark. On "Lenders in the Temple," Oberst sings of feelings of helplessness and despair, noting, "I'd give a fortune to your infomercial if somebody would just take my call," over nothing but a guitar. It's such a wonderful expression of loneliness and I've found it to be one of my favorite moments on the album. On the album's last track, "Milk Thistle" Conor subtly remarks, "If I go to heaven/I'll be bored as hell/Like a little baby/ at the bottom of a well," like it's not one of the better, more impressive lines on the entire record. Moments like these remind us why we listen to Oberst in the first place, why he is regarded by almost everybody as one of the most important songwriters of his generation, and make us thankful that the well that he pulls his songs out of is as deep as it is.

But as I said before, most of Conor Oberst is upbeat, or at the very least more light-hearted than anything the artist has created before. Though it is still rooted in the style of his previous records, it maintains a uniqueness and a freshness that won't wear thin for quite some time. To make the record, Oberst rounded up a few of his more musically-inclined friends (the Mystic Valley band, as they are now immortally known) last winter and headed to a small Mexican town where they stayed for five weeks, writing and recording the album. The cold winter months usually lend themselves to equally cold songs. But the change of climate must have done Oberst some good. Conor Oberst is a warm, inviting, and exciting album that does a wonderful job of setting itself apart from the artist's other musical endeavors. As such, it's one that any fan would be crazy not to add to their collection. And for newcomers, well, this may just be the best time to discover the genius of Conor Oberst. Buy it!

Key Tracks:
1. "Cape Canaveral"
2. "Get-Well-Cards"
3. "Lenders in the Temple"
4. "I Don't Want to Die (In the Hospital)"
5. "Souled Out!!!"

8 out of 10 Stars

5 out of 5 stars

Conor Oberst - S/T 9/10 August 5, 2008
8 out of 8 found this review helpful

Conor Oberst has been the heart and soul of Bright Eyes since he was but a wee emo teen, and despite short-lived side ventures like Park Ave. and Desaparecidos, Bright Eyes has been, for all intents and purposes, Oberst's main musical vehicle. Now finally ducking out from under that weighted alias, Omaha's preeminent songwriter has (technically) struck out on his own with the aid of the Mystic Valley Band, a name that sounds like it came straight from a tent revival. Conor has always been a chameleonic musician, switching from punk rock to orchestral pop to squawking electronica on various projects, but Conor Oberst is a treatise on what Conor does best: folk/rock at its most earnest, introspective, and musically accomplished.

"Cape Canaveral" starts out the record in the vein of 2005's I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning, a simple acoustic melody framing Oberst's typically sharp lyrics beseeching "hey hey hey mother interstate / can you deliver me from evil?" Conor and the band traveled down to Mexico to record this album, and evidently the southern climate paid off, giving much of the record an abnormally relaxed vibe when taken in context with Oberst's other work.

"Sausalito" is a shuffling, optimistic country-rock tune about running away from the modern world, a common theme on an album that, above all else, celebrates the highway and the allure of American back roads. "Moab" is the best example of this, a pulsing guitar-rock with a dash of country spice that wouldn't sound out of place on Cassadaga. When Oberst triumphantly announces, "there's nothing that the road cannot heal," by then you're having too much fun to disagree with him either way.

Lyrically Oberst is in top form, dropping sepia-toned images like "hear the Mustangs rev at the four way stop / you get ghosted when the light says go" on the anthemic "Get-Well-Cards" and painting a vivid pictures of the mind like "patterns in my mind now moving slow / sorrow all across the surface roads / smoothing out the edges of the stone / the lights are out, where'd everybody go?" on the beautifully dark "Lenders in the Temple."

Lyrics mean nothing without a solid backing track to flesh out the thoughts, and Oberst and his band don't disappoint. The bouncy guitars and tinkling piano on "Danny Callahan" contrast with the tragic subject matter, highlighting the potential for joy in the midst of grief. Bluegrass boogie rave-up "I Don't Want To Die (In A Hospital)" is one of the most urgent songs Oberst has ever recorded, a track that fairly explodes with energy, conjuring up a ridiculous image of Oberst rocking some country bar in the backwoods of Georgia. If there's ever been a better argument for living out your last days rather than wasting away in a bed, I haven't heard it.

Oberst has been getting more and more consistent with his offerings over the years, but with the sheer amount of ideas he has, there are always bound to be a few that never truly work out. "NYC-Gone, Gone," takes a simple American foot-stompin,' hand-clappin' beat and electrifies it with a stick-in-your-head chorus that inexplicably ends shortly after the minute mark. "Valle Mistico (Ruben's Song)" is a fairly pointless instrumental break that serves only to stunt the album's momentum.

But these are trifling problems, and the one-two punch of "Souled Out!!!" and "Milk Thistle" that closes out the record forgives any transgressions. The former is the sound of a band that sounds like they could keep playing music for eternity with a grin on their faces and a laugh in their throats, a bar-band sing-a-long with a roaring guitar and pounding drums, while the latter is a gentle acoustic strummer in the tradition of "Lime Tree" with some of the album's best lyrics: "I keep death at my heels / like a basset hound / if I go to heaven, I'll be bored as hell / like a crying baby at the bottom of a well." Simple and startlingly effective, it ends the record on one of many peaks.

If Conor needed to prove to anyone that he could survive and, more importantly, succeed outside of the confines of Bright Eyes, his work with the Mystic Valley Band should go a long way to putting any doubts to rest. He's not exactly the Bob Dylan of the millennial generation yet, but he's pretty far on his way.

4 out of 5 stars

Bright eyed and on his own August 16, 2008
5 out of 5 found this review helpful

There are two things surprising about Conor Oberst's first solo outing in almost a decade. ONE: It still sounds pretty much like a Bright Eyes disc. TWO: Given the political forcefulness of his classic I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning in its election cycle release, this album is quite non-topical. (Heck, Digital Ash in a Digital Urn sounded more like a solo album than this does.) These are probably a good thing in many listeners' perceptions, and overall, Oberst is playing to his strengths.

"Conor Oberst" is, first and foremost, an unabashed folk album. Oberst even trekked to Mexico to record it (as mentioned in both "Cape Canaveral" and "Sausalito"), and it seems to have loosened him up a bit. Both "NYC Gone Gone" and "I Don't Wanna Die In The Hospital" are truckin'
numbers that rock more than anything on Cassadaga. In particular, "Hospital" sounds like a hoe-down jam that could have been played out for an extended period just because the players were getting a groove on. As one would expect form Oberst, the wordplay is exquisite (again begging the Dylan comparisons), with poetic metaphors scattered throughout.

However, when Oberst drops the facade and gets deeply personal, he comes up with a couple of the best songs of his career. For me, the highlights of this CD are "Lenders in the Temple" and "Milk Thistle." "Milk Thistle" closes the album on an optimistic note, with encouraging words from Oberst over a clean guitar and bass only arrangement. It is my favorite song on the album and a study in contrast. The bright lyric over the tentative music hits just the perfect balance. (He pulls this off in reverse during "Danny Callahan," a peppy number about a dying child.)

With this album, Oberst once again assumes the mantle of great musical hope. There are few artists in the young folk scene making music that isn't over-precocious (although sometimes it gets real close) or not trying so hard to sound old/classicist that they have no identity. "Conor Oberst" suffers from no such issue, and (but for the silly conch blowing segment) this is a near flawless album.

5 out of 5 stars

An immaculate blend of music August 18, 2008
5 out of 5 found this review helpful

It's best to start with one warning: some people simply don't like Conor Oberst's voice, whether it be on this album, or as a part of Bright Eyes or Desaparacidos. That being said, it is impossible to dispute Oberst's proficiency as a songwriter. As a lifelong Springsteen fan, I've always considered The Boss to be one of the best lyricists of all time. Since I became a fan of Bright Eyes and Oberst, I would now consider him to be better than Springsteen. Some of his lines are truly incredible, and the listener cannot help but be touched.
This album is unlike any Bright Eyes record. Bright Eyes songs have become known for their sad sound and slow rhythm that can be described as nothing but "depressing". While this album has a slow, sad song or two, it also has incredibly upbeat, fast-paced songs such as NYC-Gone, Gone, Souled Out, and I Don't Want to Die (in a Hospital).
Fans will be moved once again. I didn't understand the full power of this album until I saw him on concert this week. The venue featured a high cost front section full of people waiting for the next act, while the distant lawn area featured the most inexpensive admission available, and seemed to be home to all the Oberst fans. While singing "Cape Canaveral", Oberst made a gesture towards our section when he sang, "victory's sweet even deep in the cheap seats".

2 out of 5 stars

O-worst... August 10, 2008
4 out of 31 found this review helpful

Perhaps Conor Oberst's brand of genius is best equated to The O.C., Gilmore Girls or Dark Angel; it's just clever enough to not be as vapid as Keeping Up With The Kardashians. But just because Oberst's bubbles aren't as big Kim Kardashian's doesn't mean it isn't bubble gum in the first place. Even Jessica Alba knows that no one watched Dark Angel for any other reason than to see her in a body-hugging cat suit. In the same token, it sometimes seems Oberst knows his sad, brown eyes have him fast-tracked for super-stardom.

But that doesn't mean one should hate Oberst for being beautiful. In fact, there's no reason at all to hate the little cutie. If there is any reason at all to disregard Conor Oberst, it is because you are not a confused, teenage girl. Our friends at the New York Times described him as seeming "both adorable and haunted at the same time." Kind of like a Cabbage Patch kid, when you think about it.

As if this saccharine characterization didn't inspire a strong enough gag reflex, there are those who have seen fit to speak of him in the same breath as Bob Dylan; musical treason worthy of a cold slap upside the back of the head. Inferring any artist's similarity to Bob Dylan should have been illegal a long time ago and now it sinks to all new lows with Oberst being gifted shared editorial space by both The New Yorker and New York Times.

His latest offering, a self-titled "solo" release, has him crooning his trademark prose, replete with all the texture and complexity of an Applebee's appetizer and scattered across a pastiche of musical chops aspiring to greater heights than they'll ever achieve. As a whole, the album feels painfully contrived; a slick collection packaged and arranged to transparently showcase Oberst's penchant for writing eclectic songs strangely devoid of any hooks. As it unfolds, one can imagine him checking off a list: "Song one will be a folk song; song two, a country sort-of thing; song three, God, I wish I were Bob Dylan..." and so on. Call it "genre-by-numbers".

In the end, the world may be better served by a line of signature Conor Oberst second-hand shirts than by another tedious collection of borrowed, beige beats and his big, brown eyes.

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