His back-up band was none other than The Felice Brothers, longtime collaborators of his. With a conventional folk-rock band lineup, the band compliments Conor’s unshakable control of the stage and never overpower him. They also opened up the show with a set of their own music, and even though they looked like the didn’t really care, the music was fine and didn’t cross any barriers for opening bands.

Before Conor came on, the crowd got a little bigger and continued to grow through the small delay, caused by a malfunctioning piece of equipment which had to be replaced. By the time he played it was pretty packed, rightfully so for someone of his stature.

He opened with a newer song that quickly transitioned into a Bright Eyes classic from their album Cassadaga called “Four Winds,” which featured the full-length violin solo from the original recording, served up with the same urgency and vitality that comes across on record. I’ve seen Conor a few times and this rendition of the song seemed more unhinged than any other instance. It fit with the sound because he used more electric guitar than acoustic or piano.

One of his latest albums, Ruminations, resonates with its title by being a solemn album featuring low production and small instrumentation: Conor on the guitar or piano with a harmonica slung around his neck. These songs are introspective and the songs surprisingly hold up as an album despite being very local to a certain sound. His most recent album, Salutations, contains 10 full-band fleshed out versions of Ruminations songs plus some brand new ones.

“Gossamer Thin,” a song that exists on both of the albums, was the best performance of one of his new songs. It’s catchy as a solo song and even better expanded, using the Felice Brothers in their fullest extent.

Conor reached back into his own solo career, playing “Time Forgot” before reaching back even further and pulling out a Monsters of Folk song. Monsters of Folk is a super-group band that Conor was in featuring Jim James of My Morning Jacket, M. Ward, and Mike Mogis, a longtime collaborator of Conor’s and a member of Bright Eyes.

It was interesting to see him pull from different points in his life while trying to tie it all together. He played the songs with a practiced certainty but still remained open to the sometimes improvisational nature of his singing. Unlike the Felice Brothers, Conor did not seem bored at all, and responded very well to the large crowd, who continually let him know how much they loved him.

His talking with the crowd was sometimes humorous, asking us at some point “What did you guys do all day? Have barbecues? Write poems?” He even took some time to make a jab at the president, following suit with his anti-Bush songs during that era.

“Poison Oak” and “Train Under Water” were two of the Bright Eyes classics he pulled out, feeling as emotional as they day he wrote them. He was called on for an encore, per usual, and closed out the set with “Napalm” from his latest album.

The most evident part of Conor’s current creative head-space is his seeming attachment to his back-up band. He seemed musically in love and very connected to their music and to their interpretations of his songs. Will these be the people he’s making music with in five years? We’ll see.

The post Concert Review: Conor Oberst @ Englert Theatre 3/26/2017 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

“I think I was blind before I met you … This is the first day of my life / I’m glad I didn’t die before I met you / But now I don’t care, I could go anywhere with you / And I’d probably be happy”. 

Oberst’s trademark voice of existential shakiness might not quite get you to therapy—but it’s honest. “First Day of My Life” without any usual politics leaves it mushy with honesty. It effortlessly tugs at heartstrings, and tugs hard.

Malcolm “Mac Miller” McCormick is a lofty and boisterous American rapper—confidently in contrast to Conor’s dark, Midwestern grounded-ness. His latest 2016 release, The Divine Feminine, puts him right up along artists like Tyler, The Creator and Earl Sweatshirt. So Miller’s hip-hop production—laced with loyal themes of a dude’s rowdy night out—appears out of touch with anything “indie songwriter” by a landslide.

“Yours was the first face that I saw / I think I was blind before I met you / I don’t know where I am, I don’t know where I’ve been / But I know where I want to go.” 

That said: Slightly stoned-sounding, Miller’s “First Day of My Life” coming from the same artist of Dang! and My Favorite Part demonstrates some wholehearted versatility that many musicians so carefully craft. Shredding all traces of “gangster” was not for naught, even with the amount of vocal layering.

Miller’s version has less arpeggio in its chords, instead lending a more steady, straightforward sound with more predictable syncopation. It’s a pleasantly modest cover, sticking to the status quo of the original. An air of charming confidence hints at Miller’s jazzy roots, especially with “I’d rather be working for a paycheck / Than waiting to win the lot-te-ry”. 

…”I didn’t die before I met you” is definitive in comparison. Oberst wins in sincerity, but perhaps Miller does in expressing it.

The faster tempo with generally smoother guitar boasts Mac’s softer side, without glorifying love at first sight. He adds years of modern romantics to a sometimes-dingy track that can really head both ways.

A slowing solo finishes with a twangy, sundrenched feel, while leaving out Oberst’s footnotes of “Besides, maybe this time is different / I mean, I really think you like me.”  If anyone could make Bright Eyes so slick and stylish, it’s probably Mac Miller. Oberst’s original has irreplaceable soul, but Miller again proves his dedication by covering “Lua” from the same album.

Whether or not there’s something in Bright Eyes for all of us, Oberst’s writing and Miller’s wits make a strangely satisfying love song as “First Day of My Life”—on polar ends of the spectrum.

The post “FIRST DAY OF MY LIFE”: Bright Eyes vs. Mac Miller appeared first on KRUI Radio.