Ever since Bright Eyes came into the music world’s consciousness with their 2000 release Fevers and Mirrors, Conor Oberst’s project has been polarizing. If you have listened to Bright Eyes you are either a rabid fan or a complete cynic. Since I’m writing this article, you can probably figure out which side I’m on. My goal here isn’t to convert everyone into a believer, as I know that certainly isn’t possible or necessary, I just feel that those that wrote Bright Eyes off early might benefit from giving them a second chance.
With Bright Eyes’ critically acclaimed recent release Cassadaga, they provide their best chance to get converts, while at the same time maintaining their signature sound. Gone is Oberst’s whine and quiver that has turned off listeners and taking its place is the voice of a confident, mature 27-year old. He no longer whines and screams, but instead assuredly declares his most ambitious lyrics yet.
Many critics of Bright Eyes view Conor as a whiny, depressed kid with a guitar. However, this is far from the truth. On this record Conor finally sounds like he is content (at least for the time being) and has dropped all of his monologues on depression. He is now a confident folk artist discussing love, religion, war, and death over a multitude of percussion and string instruments.
“Rock’s boy genius,” as Conor was dubbed at an early age, has now matured into a self -assured folk mastermind that is able to create sprawling arrangements that finally befit him of his “the next Bob Dylan” status. So please, if you’ve given Bright Eyes a chance before and it didn’t catch on, I recommend not as a Bright Eyes lover, but as a music lover, that you give Cassadaga a try.
Want more Bright Eyes? Check this out:
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