Conor Oberst – Self-Titled

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When he began his life as a troubadour in disguise as Bright Eyes, Conor Oberst was all vim and vigour, spittle and spite. He spat the lyrics out as much as he sang them, always eager to rush through his myriad of ideas so he could move onto the next one. He was inspired by the passion of youth, the promise of tomorrow. He never looked back.

That couldn’t be further from the truth now. Ever since the electronic Digital Ash in a Digital Urn was paired with the country-rock leanings of I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning in one of the more unusual double-releases for some time, Oberst has stopped questioning himself. As a result, last year’s Cassadaga was a straight-up alt-country record, with admittedly experimental leanings. His debut solo album – he insists he’s only using his own name this time around as Bright Eyes collaborator Mike Mogis was absent from the offsider position – is his most straightforward, direct, and simplistic album to date.

No longer does Oberst hurry each song along. These days he elongates every vowel, much as Dylan did on post-motorcycle crash/speed comedown records John Wesley Harding and Nashville Skyline. Ah, yes, the ‘D’ word. It’s more inescapable than ever on Conor Oberst: every element of this album has the home-spun feel of Dylan around the time he was working with The Band and embracing country leanings. Oberst’s phrasing is awfully similar to his obvious mentor at times, especially so on Get – Well – Cards, and sometimes it’s easy to wonder if this made in Mexico album is something of a tribute to the Man.

There’s no doubt Oberst is a wonderful songwriter. Several of the songs on this self-titled number are amongst his finest work, with the likes of Lenders in the Temple amongst his very best songs. It’s easy to miss the energy of LIFTED, but Oberst’s mastery of song structure is probably – technically at least – better than it’s ever been.

Conor Oberst’s self-titled album is out now through Spunk!/Shock Records.

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