Bright Eyes
There Is No Beginning to the Story EP
[Saddle Creek; 2002]
Rating: 7.4
How old is Conor Oberst now? Twenty-one, maybe twenty-two, right?
It seems like just yesterday he was only the tender age of fourteen,
hammering away on his old acoustic, blessed with enough angst and
resentment to make most teenagers envious. But kids grow up so fast
nowadays, don't they? I mean here it is, eight years later, he's
just released There Is No Beginning to the Story, and there's
barely a hint of the tantrum-infused songwriting he's been prone to
on any of his countless other releases. Maybe he's shocked his
critics by maturing while they weren't looking; maybe he's just
screaming less. Whatever the case, the latest Bright Eyes EP hints
at the promise of better things to come.
Some of you are no doubt familiar with the standard Bright Eyes
ouevre. For the duration of his young career, Oberst has stuck to
jangly, repetitive acoustic guitar work and oh-so-tortured vocals
like a religion. To a large extent, his caterwauling delivery and
pent-up aggression have been the basis of his major criticisms and,
I'll wager, the basis for some of his fanbase, too. Yet, with
There Is No Beginning to the Story, Oberst manages a nice
balance between his more intense older material and a newer, calmer
sound that won't alienate his fanbase, and just might even stifle
some of his detractors.
It's still Bright Eyes, certainly, but a little less jangly and a
little less whiny (most of the time). These improvements aren't
across the board, though, and there are some problematic moments.
"From a Balance Beam" is stale-- yet never offensively so-- and
"Messenger Bird's Song," the one fatal misstep of this EP, is
particularly poor: featuring Oberst at his most embarassingly
emotive and little else, he cracks and quavers through a thin
acoustic ballad so predictable it wears out its welcome with the
first 'heartfelt' faltering of his voice.
Fortunately, There Is No Beginning's faults are more than
compensated for by the two remaining cuts on the disc. "Loose Leaves"
is, hands down, the most uncharacteristically unique tune Bright Eyes
has produced. It's bouncy, electric, and-- dare I say-- almost
cheery. The jaunty, Irish-folk inspired riff at its foundation,
the horns, and the singsong feel combine to produce a tune so
unabashedly catchy it's tough to believe Oberst wrote it. Hell,
it's just nice to get something you can sing along to, even if
you aren't planning on hanging yourself tomorrow. And, for a
real change of pace, Oberst nearly drops the semi-precious
waver altogether and actually sings on "We Are Free Men."
I've got a higher tolerance for Oberst's trademark nasal whine
than most, but his decision to tackle this one in a lower register
improves it 100%.
Additionally, vinyl addicts are treated to two fine bonus tracks:
"Amy in the White Coat" and a cover of Neil Young's "Out on the
Weekend." The eerie backing vocals on "Amy" are really one of the
highlights of the EP. This is what "Messenger Bird's Song" wanted
to be before it was handicapped by over-the-top vocals-- but Oberst
doesn't make that mistake twice. As for the cover of Neil Young,
I don't have the room to discuss all the possible implications;
you either love him or hate him, but it's a solid cover, regardless.
The biggest surprise of all, though, is the lyrical quality this time
out. Sporting fewer trite poeticisms, the content of these songs
comes across as less self-indulgently brooding-- even occasionally
bordering on optimistic. To find four (or six) more diverse Bright
Eyes selections than those on There Is No Beginning to the
Story would be difficult, if not impossible. Here, Oberst's
songwriting seems newly inventive, and the musicianship is tight
all-around going into Bright Eyes' upcoming album. For almost twenty
minutes, he shows signs of finally growing up. If he can keep it up
for another fifty or so, he might be on to something.
-Eric Carr, May 23rd, 2002