We all know that Conor Oberst, lead singer-songwriter of the acclaimed group Bright Eyes, loves whine, which has been his shtick for so long. But looking at his admirable display of records thus far, Oberst has always been able to reach others through his rather rural and righteous approach to songwriting. What is a bit more interesting, however, is the new approach he has undertaken with Bright Eyes’ newest record “The People’s Key.”
Oberst had said in an interview with Billboard not too long ago: “I was really burnt out on that rootsy Americana shit. So I tried to steer clear of that.” Definitely steering clear of the “rootsy Americana shit,” Oberst has constructed a record that brings in new perspectives that rattle the old “preaching persona” he is known for.
What is usually expected from Oberst’s records are whiny monologues trying to pinpoint a resonant meaning inside something bigger. However, as musically diverse as this record appears to be, the whininess still seems to remain, but brings a new objective: To transcend reality as we know it.
As broad as that may sound, the idea is held together by a voice that introduces the album at the beginning of track one, “Firewall.” This track portrays an SNL Harry Caray-sounding individual who, dumbfounded, rants about “time.” Here, stories are told about reptiles breaching the Garden of Eden, eventually taking the form of Hitler, who represents evil at a relative point in time. “Love has always been the message, its just, circumstances happen, right,” the ominous southern accent goes on. “People freak out, they just flip out, ya know? Well, that’s where Hitler came from, Hitler came from that way, he was an outspoken, a charismatic yeller. And all these people say ‘Hey we could use this guy! People listen to him!’ And that’s just one of those trips like that, ya know?”
The southern voice heard preaching the good vs. evil theme throughout the record sounds like it was sampled from a religious channel of some sort, maintaining a charismatic confidence that is recognizable like no other.
It seems that Oberst steps out of his preacher persona much more than usual, as if he is trying to portray that he is starting to believe in the hopeful voice that sums up the record. Expressing confusion with his modern life would be too easy for Oberst.
Still, by approaching the album with his clever songwriting, Oberst does, in fact, give the vibe that he may not have the answers after all. In one of his more abrasive tunes “Jejune Stars,” he sings, “The wheel of becoming erases the physical mind / Till all that remains is a staircase of information.” He even looks inward in another song “Shell Games,” singing, “My private life is an inside joke / no one will explain it to me.” Impressively, Oberst emerges at one point with a keyboard solo in the song “Triple Spiral,” his tribute to a friend’s passing.
“The People’s Key” is a display of Oberst’s path to possibly finding something else on which to place his bottled-up blame. By including the preaching that introduces the record, it appears that Oberst has tried to fashion a creative way out, one that allows himself to change his artistic perspective for which he has come to be known, yet still withholding some sort of answer or conclusion for anything. This record is already getting extremely high-marked reviews and is said to be the best record that Conor Oberst and Bright Eyes have ever put forth. Personally, I think you’re just going to have to hear it for yourself. ?