Bright EyesCassadaga + Four Winds EP + Extras
[ Rock ]
As resident Conor Oberst devotee, my judgment may rightly be questioned every time I review the Omaha-based folk-emo-punk-rock-country troubadour's releases. But I can tell you one thing right now, which is as close to a solid fact as you are going to get in the subjective world of music journalism;
The track listing on Cassadaga is seriously fucked up. More on that story later.
The first thing you'll notice about Cassadaga is the gorgeous packaging. The white-noise pages of the leaflet reveal hidden pictures and messages when passed over with the included "spectral de coder" device. Special praise is due to Zack Nipper, Saddle Creek's resident designer, for a gimmick both entertaining and in keeping with the album's otherwordly themes (Cassadaga is a Florida spiritualist camp Oberst visited briefly.) In the album itself, things start off strongly; the mutterings of a psychic lady set over an ambient collage; the kind of stunt Oberst and his band (Bright Eyes now includes permanent members Nate Walcott and producer Mike Mogis as well as the frontman and an ever changing roster of helpers) pull off frequently, and it always portends something big. The melancholy, cynical beauty of opener Clairaudients (Kill Or Be Killed), when it starts in earnest, is magnificent; "Future Markets, Holy Wars / Been tried ten thousand times before / If you think that God is keeping score, Hooray!". After the opener, in kicks an explosive change of pace with the fiddle-led single Four Winds. The lyrics are as sharp as ever "The squatters made a mural of a Mexican girl / With fifteen cans of spraypaint in a chemical swirl / She's standing in the ashes at the end of the world / Four winds blowing through her hair ... The Bible's blind, the Torah's deaf, the Qu'ran is mute / If you burn them all together you get close to the truth". And there was Conor promising to make a non-political album.
The treats continue with the mature, cathartic If The Brakeman Turns My Way, some glorious harmonies combining with the repeated emphasis of "leveling out"; "First a mother bathes her child then the other way around / The scales always find a way to level out." Lest we be filled with too much of a warm, fuzzy feeling at the end of the track, Oberst bookends it with the biblical squall of Hot Knives and it's uplifting conclusion; "So let us rejoice / In all this pink noise / An oscillation / That we can pinpoint"
Make A Plan To Love Me marks a new experiment for Oberst; mellow. Yes, the songwriter who once invented a fictional baby brother that drowned in a bathtub is crooning like Sinatra (well, almost), about a career woman who doesn't have the time to love him. It's a unique pop gem, then, if an atypical offering.
He's not retreated from introspective self-loathing, though, as the scathingly witty Soul Singer in A Session Band proves. Comparing himself to the "Soul singer in a session band / Cut to ribbons beneath a microphone band" he bemoans that he "was a hopeless romantic / Now I'm just turning tricks". Ah, the curse of success.
Avid Conor-o-philes or gossip junkies will notice the inspiration of Classic Cars being a certain klepto hollywood actress who will remain nameless. But Winona Ryder aside, Classic Cars tackles the subjects of celebrity, image, and older women with a dextrous touch and suitably classic country stylings.
Middleman, the cowboy-styled epic that sounds in places suspiciously like the theme to Steven Spielberg's recent TV series Into the West, bemoans the impossibility of holding absolute principles in our shifting global landscape. The electronic vocal effects deliberately clash with the folksy melodies in an evocative fashion.
It's at this point in the album that one starts to doubt the wisdom of how the tracks were ordered and which should have been included in the album. Individually, Cleanse Song, No One Would Riot For Less, and Coat Check Dream Song are perfectly competent songs; but chaining three very low tempo, generally laid-back tracks together, and then ending on one (Lime Tree) only broken by glorious live favourite I Must Belong Somewhere is a bit much, especially as No One Would Riot gets dangerously close to the tedium barrier (it's grim, dark, eco-warrior message hampered by the fact that it's maybe just a bit; well, too dark and desolate.) Cleanse Song and Coat Check meander around happily, recalling a little bit of previous electronica experiment Digital Ash in A Digital Urn, but with less drive and urgency. Thankfully, I Must Belong Somewhere, with it's dozens of structured verses ranging from the whimsical "Leave the cauliflower in the casserole" to the charged "Leave the hawks of war in their capitals", almost saves the day. It's simple, strong melody and epic scope screams "Finale", but unfortunately Conor doesn't quit while he's ahead, ending on a fizzle with the sweet, but impossibly quiet Lime Tree, which simply doesn't have the confidence to end an album with a bang, or the melodic strength to be a quiet coda.
The biggest mystery about Cassadaga's line up though, remains the B-Sides; if you're going to write the best set of songs in your career, surely you put the highlights on the album? Not Conor. He saves some of the best tracks for the B-sides; the free download only Endless Entertainment contrasts lyrics like "My serotonin's rationed / I think I caught the blues ... My smile's in sad shape / All that dead weight I keep carrying" with jaunty, guitar led music to impressive effect. It's not a song to give away lightly.
Susan Miller Rag, the US-only-free-with-company-store-pre-orders-mini-cd is a real uncut gem. Raw guitars and drums mesh with a beautiful chorus "Far away from the rag trade / Far away from this maritime state you're stuck in / Relax your law / Relax your ego / And groove... from the deep-sea dive to the nose-bleed altitudes.". It sounds positively carribbean. Yes, I'm still talking about Conor Oberst.
More treats abound in the US EP single "Four Winds" (Import the disc from Amazon instead of buying all the British formats for the B-Sides) which really shines. Reinvent The Wheel's spiralling strings, undeniable melody and harmonica finale is a key track. It's followed by the delicately impressive M. Ward collaboration Smoke Without Fire, and the ragged joy of Stray Dog Freedom. After that, the righteous, riotous country rock of Cartoon Blues hits home; replete with a clever "cartoon" vocal trick on the lyrics; "Now my days are distractions that ring in my hands / Solitaire crosswords and films on demand / When you turn from a cartoon back into a man / You start to smell that human smell." As if to demonstrate how to end an album effectively with a quiet track, Tourist Trap then explores the familiar Bright Eyes territory of belonging and change complete with cowboy boot percussion. Beautiful.
I can't emphasise how strongly I feel that those extra tracks need to be hunted down before you can enjoy the complete Cassadaga experience. It's the album of his career, for sure, but Oberst seems damn well determined to make the worst of it. Perhaps he's just trying to avoid the session band's soul singer.
Cassadaga 78
Four Winds EP 94
Susan Miller Rag 86
Endless Entertainment 91
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