Bright Eyes

Nobody can skewer young love with the gauche emotion, mordant wit or rude detail of
Conor Oberst. The Bright Eyes maestro is only twenty-four, but he's broken a career's
worth of hearts, strumming his acoustic guitar and chronicling his romantic torments in
indie-rock gems such as "Going for the Gold." He commands a cult of hot, sullen Conorites
who would gladly crawl through broken glass to lick his plectrum. And though h... More >

Given indie-rock's formal-historical dilemma, grant Conor Oberst this--at least it bothers him that he has no idea what he's doing, or rather why he's doing it, though actually I mean he admits that it bothers him instead of trying to ignore it. Like the empathy of so many young men, especially artists, his is more self-involved than saints like us prefer. But at least he expresses empathy--to memorable melodies that very nearly bear up under the repetitions his rarely witless or superfluous lyrics require. (Grade: A-)