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October 9-15, 2008
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Obersting at the seams
Nebraskan music prodigy inspires controversy in the folk-rock world
by Arjuna Orland
The mother of all folk singers
Dar Williams balances her tour schedule with her family schedule
by Alan Sculley
Obersting at the seams
Nebraskan music prodigy inspires controversy in the folk-rock world
by Arjuna Orland
Twenty-eight-year-old Conor Oberst began playing guitar at the age of 10; released his first solo album at 13; joined the Superchunky Omaha, Neb., indie-rockers Commander Venus when he was just a freshman in high school; and helped that band start their own record label (Saddle Creek) when he was just 15. Oberst spent the past decade or so at the center of the polarizing (and beloved) indie alt-pop group Bright Eyes, which used the Saddle Creek label to release a half dozen albums’ worth of sensitive (and arguably pretentious) folk-rock. Appealing more (though not mostly) to teenagers, Bright Eyes impressively straddled the line between emo and Wilco with Oberst’s endearing guitar, wobbly voice and occasionally visionary lyrics at the helm.
But the knock on the tremble-voiced singer/songwriter for the past few years has been that the huge potential associated with Oberst since he first emerged as a teenage indie wunderkind (i.e. “he’s the next Springsteen!”; “he’s the next Dylan!”) has remained just that: potential. The critics and the kids just can’t seem to agree on the über-prolific Omaha native’s talent, importance or even his intentions. Take Bright Eyes’ most popular LP to date, 2005’s I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning: ubiquitous and highly esteemed rock critic Stephen Thomas Erlewine said that the album “reveals that the emperor has no clothes. [Oberst’s] drama-queen theatrics expose him for the shallow poseur he is. It’s clear that Bright Eyes is little more than a pretty boy in a sweater… instead of reaching musical maturity, he’s wallowing in a perpetual adolescence.”
But I’ll be the first to admit that music journalism, at its heart, is arguably perpetual adolescence and pretense itself; and luckily for Oberst, critics don’t buy albums or concert tickets. Plus, it’s hard to condone going that far in trashing anyone, but it’s also hard to agree with the other extreme: wide-eyed Oberst fans who consider him an unequivocal and infallible musical and literary genius.
In particular, I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning, with its clear, thick Rumours-esque production as a layer for gorgeous acoustic and steel guitar (and Emmylou Harris backup vocals), has some brilliant lines: “You were born inside of a raindrop / I watched you falling to your death”; “In the face of every criminal strapped firmly to a chair / we must stare, we must stare, we must stare,” etc. But for every “This is the first day of my life / I was born right in the doorway” there is an “I could go anywhere with you / and I’d probably be happy” or “I’m not surprised but I never feel quite prepared.” As in virtually all of Oberst’s work, I’m Wide Awake has something obvious and adolescent for nearly every truly transcendent piece of open-hearted poetry. And, for some, that unpredictability is even more reason to love him.
Oberst’s new self-titled release, his first solo album in 13 years, is more of the same in terms of unreliable output. Recording with his new Mystic Valley Band in Mexico near that country’s largest active volcano, Conor Oberst starts out strong with two location-centric songs (“Cape Canaveral” and “Sausalito”) that impressively defy the weepy stereotypes associated with Oberst, casting him instead as a sort of sun-drenched Beat poet for the ’00s with lines like “It’s been a nightmare to me / some 1980s grief / gives me parachute dreams / like old war movies / while the universe was drawn / perfect circles form infinity.” Instead of desperately telling listeners (or a woman) what they “must” do, Oberst lets his remarkable creativity fly, and the results are dream-like and infatuating. But, beginning with the borderline-obnoxious “Get Well Cards,” the new record loses steam (and attraction) pretty quick. The combination of irritation and repetition is just too much to bear, from “he’s gonna do it by hand / he’s gonna do it / he’s gonna do it / he’s gonna do it / he’s gonna do it / he’s gonna do it / he’s gonna do it by hand” to “help me get my boots on / help me get my boots on / help me get my boots back on / help me get my boots on / help me get my boots on / help me get my boots back on… cause I don’t have long.” And if it’s annoying enough just to read those lyrics in print, maybe you get the idea.
But nobody’s perfect, not even Dylan. And despite the occasionally shallow and/or infuriating lyrics; the wavering voice that often sounds like it so gravely wants to be sad; and the lofty expectations and comparisons doled out by his adoring fans, Oberst remains an extremely talented songwriter and performer and one of the most consistently high-quality young troubadours America currently possesses. At its high points, Conor Oberst is pure and moving country-rock; his upcoming show in Denver, backed by the Mystic Valley Band, should be the same and then some.
On the Bill
Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band will perform at 8 p.m. on Thursday, Oct. 16, at the Ogden Theatre, 935 E. Colfax Ave., Denver,
303-830-2525.
Respond: letters@boulderweekly.com
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The mother of all folk singers
Dar Williams balances her tour schedule with her family schedule
by Alan Sculley
It was a busy morning at the Dar Williams household when she picked up the phone to do an interview. As Williams fielded questions about her fall tour and her new CD, Promised Land, she was also dealing with the needs of her 4-year-old son, Stephen, and a shifting schedule that had seen several phone interviews moved to the morning and occurring in rapid back-to-back succession.
“Sorry, I’m multi-tasking,” Williams said, as she tried to answer an interview question, tend to her son (who wanted to show his mother a pepper he had found, presumably from the household garden) and deal with an incoming call for another interview.
But if life as a mother/wife/musician means juggling the demands of home and family with the demands of promoting a tour and new CD comes with an understandable element of chaos, it seems clear that when it comes to the music itself, Williams continues to have things under control.
Promised Land, Williams’ seventh studio album, is yet another in an unbroken string of solid efforts that showcases her immediately appealing folk-pop sound and sharply drawn lyrics. But if the music on Promised Land fits neatly alongside the rest of Williams’ album catalog, her approach to making the album had a few departures.
Most notably, she chose to work with a new producer, Brad Wood, who has a rock — not folk — background, and a notably different group of musicians. Wood, in fact, has praised Williams for her willingness to step outside of her comfort zone in recording Promised Land.
It’s a compliment Williams happily accepts, but not without downplaying any artistic courage she showed in doing the album.
“I chose him because he fit my comfort zone. I’m pleased that he thought I was being so brave,” Williams said. “And it’s good for people to believe that I’m being brave. So by all means, present me as a brave person.”
The fact that Williams wanted a producer who would bring new ideas and input to the project is a sign of how her approach to record making has evolved over the past half dozen years. After making her 2000 CD, The Green World, Williams realized that she had been too controlling in the studio and was doing too much to orchestrate and guide the recording process. For her next CD, 2003’s The Beauty Of The Rain, she stepped back somewhat during the project, and gave co-producers Lerman and Rob Hyman more of a voice in the proceedings and also encouraged the musicians on that album to bring more of their personalities and styles to their playing.
Williams continued to practice that approach on the 2005 CD, My Better Self (also produced by Lerman), but feels she was even more open-minded in making Promised Land.
“This was a fulfillment of that understanding that I got from working with all of these great musicians, that actually I need to step back,” she said. “Unless you really want to go in there with a dot-to-dot blueprint where there’s no freedom and there’s just execution, it’s actually much better for an album spiritually to let people kind of go into how they feel the music as well as how they execute it.”
But if Williams continued to allow her collaborators to step further into the album-making process, she did so without diluting her own identity.
Promised Land fits comfortably alongside her most recent albums. A few songs have a stronger rock edge, including the brisk album-opening “It’s Alright” and “Go to the Woods.” And while the rhythm tracks are a bit more assertive on other songs like “The Easy Way” and “Buzzer,” these tunes still strike an appealing balance between pop and folk as Williams showcases her familiar ability to craft graceful melodies. There are also quieter songs, such as “You Are Everyone” and “Holly Tree” that connect “Promised Land” directly back to Williams’ folkier roots.
“Actually, somebody said that they thought it sounded more like an older album of mine, and (that person) mentioned it as a compliment,” Williams said. “And I was thrilled because I know there are people who want that… But yeah, I didn’t think it sounded terribly different.”
What will sound different is Williams’ live sound on her first run of dates to promote Promised Land.
Having toured in recent years with a full band and in a solo acoustic format, Williams this fall is performing in a trio format with keyboardist Bryn Roberts and percussionist Everett Bradley. The format, she said, lends itself to a wide variety of sonic settings.
“I’ve been hearing my friends playing with these incredible trios,” Williams said. “It’s a little more theatrical than a band because it’s a little bit more unusual. There’s a lot of power, but the focus can still be, there’s all the rhythm of a band, but there’s also a lyrical focus (of solo). So that does encompass the sort of both ends of the spectrum of folk and rock.”
In the Box:
Dar Williams will perform with Jayme Stone at 8 p.m. on Tuesday, Oct. 14, at the Boulder Theater, 2032 14th St., Boulder, 303-786-7030.
Respond: letters@boulderweekly.com
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