The short hipster guy in a button-down shirt seemed disappointed when I turned down his invitation to come back to the hotel where he and his friends were staying. I told him I had people I was with but it had been nice talking to him. If only he'd known what a real fan's after-party consists of. Me, I know the secret:
If the venue is small and the crowd is fervent, there is a possibility that after the show is over, the artist will come 'round the back or side to mingle for a few minutes. This trick I learned from the same ex-boyfriend who, incidentally, introduced me to this artist's music originally. (Our lives have diverged for good, now, but I will be grateful to him for several things, this among the more frivolous ones.)
I will admit, there was no way to be sure that Conor Oberst would do that. He has a reputation for being surly and detached from fans. He hates it when people sing along at shows, so to be contrary he alters the words a bit for live performances. He shuns the laud and hullabaloo of being an icon, so he only releases albums under the name "Bright Eyes". And he never smiles onstage.
Well, this was 2008, and he'd done the first thing, releasing a "solo" and eponymous album that I really really liked, earlier that year, so put one tally under "Never Say Never". This was a warm night in Tucson, AZ, at a pretty venue called The Joint, and he had not only smiled, he'd been so stumbling drunk, he looked like he was having fun. He didn't even seem to mind when those of us who didn't know better (like me) unfolded our arms to sing along with whatever songs we knew. So now all bets were off.
The show was rock-solid. Conor Oberst, who I'd never really cottoned to until I heard this album made with "The Mystic Valley Band", delivered. He passionately bellowed into the microphone and strummed away on his guitar like the chords could bring world peace if he just hit them hard enough. He tried a few times to stand up on an amplifier, alarming us a little with the way he wobbled and swayed in his alcohol-fueled exuberance. But what should have been a slightly disturbing spectacle starring an artist who sometimes gives too much fuel to his inner demons, was instead almost transcendent. It was beautiful. With his eyes closed and a hint of a blissful smile as he sang "Danny Callahan", he was beautiful, and it moved me deeply.
So I, the undeserving fan-initiate, stood pressed against the ropes under the watchful eye of a few security guards after the show, eyes trained on the back door of the venue with absolute precision. Sure enough, he came stumbling out and the crowd (mostly female) of superfans around me erupted in a cooing euphony like so many happy pigeons. "Connor, Connor, Connor" they murmured, and sure enough again, he moved toward us. Hands thrust in his direction and he took them and shook them and muttered generally good-natured responses. It was pretty clear he was still very disoriented. It may have been my idea but I pulled out my ticket stub (thank goodness I found a pen, after fishing around in my purse for a moment longer) and held it toward him.
He moved toward me, as if nothing would please him more than to sign my scrap of paper. The pen nearly didn't work but after a moment of confusion it did and he handed back the ticket. I touched his hand and leaned close over the rising swell of fangirl voices, and told him the only thing I really felt like I had of value. The only thing any of us, really, have the right to say to a stranger who has impressed us.
"Conor, you did really great tonight. I mean it, you were great. That was a wonderful show."
Our proximity turned into a hug at that moment. I felt his cheek, bizarrely soft and smooth, brush mine as he told me, "Thank you, thank you. You're a sweet, sweet lady." And then he kissed me on the cheek, as his bodyguards pulled him away from me.
I think for a moment I blacked out. But I was taking up space now that I'd had my turn, and I didn't want to get jumped and have my cheek torn from my face as the girls near me took up the incredulous cry of "He kissed her!" So I fled, to the car where my sister, mother, sister's then-boyfriend, etc, were waiting. I was dizzied with the impact of being starstruck. "He kissed me!" I said breathlessly, grinning, and flashing my signed ticket.
My sister's face broke like I'd dropped something made of porcelain and dreams. She'd been toward the back of the throng and hadn't even gotten close enough to look into his face. The triumphant feeling drained from me instantly, and I gave her my lasting prize, the ticket I didn't deserve to have signed. If I could have transferred the kiss from his lips to her face too, I would have done that, because no matter what, I love my sister more.
We saw Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band again in the spring, in Tempe, but things were different this time. He looked healthier, to his credit, (much more sober and characteristically grim) and performed a good set, but the magic was comparatively absent. I felt torn, glad for his sake that he was in better physical form and mental state, and favorably impressed with the new material performed that night, but sad that something had to be missing.
Conor Oberst, wherever you are, and in whatever incarnation you are right now (Bright Eyes, Mystic Valley Boy, Monster of Folk, or Desaparacido), hi. I hope you are well. You don't remember me but I remember you. I didn't deserve to be the one you kissed, like Arizona doesn't deserve to be a state you shun (most of the people who rabidly adore you are on your side about the whole immigration business- why are you punishing them?). But I'm really glad it happened, like I'm glad you brought the magic to the stage that night. I still listen to the Mystic Valley Albums when it's springtime and when it's autumn, especially, and my friend Rob called the MoF album the best one he'd heard in 2010. And with the sincerity of someone who you only managed to win over by being yourself, rather than Bright Eyes, I'll stand by what I said then: you do a great job doing what you do. "I don't wanna dream if it won't come true."
"Nikorette" by Conor Oberst & the Mystic Valley Band
Showing posts with label Conor Oberst. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Conor Oberst. Show all posts
Guest Post: Allex shares Bright Eyes (AKA Conor Oberst Part I)
Welcome back, everybody. Or, shall I say, welcome me back, everybody. Last week got away from me so consider it my Spring Break (haha) or like those times when you were a kid, tuned into PBS only to see that they are running a telethon and disrupting regularly scheduled quality programming.
Fortunately, to make up for it, I have a treat for you. I give you now the gift of hearing from my own dear sister, the indefatigable Allex Adams. Our music collections, not unlike our earth-suits, share a lot of basic genetic material, but the results are still very different to the eye and to the ear (see this year's Valentine's Post). She's passionate about art and music, and that is why I asked her to post on the subject of Bright Eyes.
To be fair, it was I who brought the first pinch of it into the house. It was "Bowl of Oranges", and a recommendation from a high school boyfriend with impeccable music taste of his own. I liked the song but I didn't really take it and run. To this day, I prefer the solo work of Conor Oberst, the driving force behind the machine known as Bright Eyes. The exception is Cassadaga, and I will probably cover that by itself in a later post. But I wanted a fresh voice to help me ring in the artist, and there is nobody better qualified to talk about it than my sister. So, without further ado, I present...
Here is a list of criticisms about Bright Eyes that I won't hear, and won't respond to:
"I can't stand his voice!"
"It's way too depressing!"
"Conor Oberst writes girl music."
"Oh."
Now, I'm not ignoring the early Bright Eyes canon- rough, ratty, and reeking of horrors most prepubescent... but paddle past the year 2000, and here is the awakening spirit of discovery and disappointment, the kind that defines love itself. That's my message to the critics. Listen to Bright Eyes the way you fall in love, not the way you sense sound. For me, Bright Eyes adoration didn't really begin until I met a boy; soon, a thirst first whet by a song or two over the course of a year or so would be quenched.
One year- one year!- passed since first asking him- him, the tall dark handsome Rivers Cuomo-tribute type!!- for a Bright Eyes education. But finally Sean handed me that holey, holy plastic bag of CDs. He loaned me every single one he owned AT THE SAME TIME, under the assumption that I would upload them all to my digital library at home, return them to him at school the next day, and then I could pick at what I wanted, when I wanted. In retrospect, that would have been very considerate of me...
But that is not what I did!
Instead, I allowed the unexpected downpour of Sean's music to fill a baptismal font of Conor Oberst's grey matter, immersing myself deep into each album individually with the volume at 11 and the liner notes always open. I drowned, promptly. Bright Eyes was heaven's big church band conducted by the new president of the Lonely Hearts Club; the lyrics so true they hurt. I had inherited six Bright Eyes albums all at once, and I couldn't breathe until I knew every single word by heart.
When I came up for air five months later, my hair had grown long, and my lender's opinion of my borrowing skills was irreparable. But the love between Bright Eyes and I is the kind you take a few losses for.
If I get to pick a few songs, it'd be these, and in this order: (Listen along at The Moon Forces Metal: Bright Eyes)
For Your Playlist: Side A
1. "An Attempt to Tip the Scales" from Fevers and Mirrors
2. "From a Balance Beam" from LIFTED: Or, The Story Is in the Soil; Keep Your Ear To The Ground
3. "First Day of My Life" from I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning
4. "Theme from Pinata" from Digital Ash in a Digital Urn
5. "Happy Birthday To Me (Feb. 15)" from Noise Floor: Rarities
For Your Playlist: Side B (chosen by your humble hostess from a mix CD Allex made me in 2008)
1. "Method Acting" from LIFTED (warning: some strong language in this one)
2. "Landlocked Blues" from Motion Sickness: Live Recordings
3. "Down in a Rabbit Hole" from Digital Ash in a Digital Urn
4. "No One Would Riot for Less" from Cassadaga
5. Bonus Selection: "From A Balance Beam" by the Vitamin String Quartet's Tribute to Bright Eyes
A big vote of thanks to my talented sister, I think, is here due. You may pause the music to applaud... and now resume. Til next time, happy listening! Speaking of next time, get ready to hear my take on the talent behind Bright Eyes in the next post.
Fortunately, to make up for it, I have a treat for you. I give you now the gift of hearing from my own dear sister, the indefatigable Allex Adams. Our music collections, not unlike our earth-suits, share a lot of basic genetic material, but the results are still very different to the eye and to the ear (see this year's Valentine's Post). She's passionate about art and music, and that is why I asked her to post on the subject of Bright Eyes.
To be fair, it was I who brought the first pinch of it into the house. It was "Bowl of Oranges", and a recommendation from a high school boyfriend with impeccable music taste of his own. I liked the song but I didn't really take it and run. To this day, I prefer the solo work of Conor Oberst, the driving force behind the machine known as Bright Eyes. The exception is Cassadaga, and I will probably cover that by itself in a later post. But I wanted a fresh voice to help me ring in the artist, and there is nobody better qualified to talk about it than my sister. So, without further ado, I present...
Here is a list of criticisms about Bright Eyes that I won't hear, and won't respond to:
"I can't stand his voice!"
"It's way too depressing!"
"Conor Oberst writes girl music."
"Oh."
Now, I'm not ignoring the early Bright Eyes canon- rough, ratty, and reeking of horrors most prepubescent... but paddle past the year 2000, and here is the awakening spirit of discovery and disappointment, the kind that defines love itself. That's my message to the critics. Listen to Bright Eyes the way you fall in love, not the way you sense sound. For me, Bright Eyes adoration didn't really begin until I met a boy; soon, a thirst first whet by a song or two over the course of a year or so would be quenched.
One year- one year!- passed since first asking him- him, the tall dark handsome Rivers Cuomo-tribute type!!- for a Bright Eyes education. But finally Sean handed me that holey, holy plastic bag of CDs. He loaned me every single one he owned AT THE SAME TIME, under the assumption that I would upload them all to my digital library at home, return them to him at school the next day, and then I could pick at what I wanted, when I wanted. In retrospect, that would have been very considerate of me...
But that is not what I did!
Instead, I allowed the unexpected downpour of Sean's music to fill a baptismal font of Conor Oberst's grey matter, immersing myself deep into each album individually with the volume at 11 and the liner notes always open. I drowned, promptly. Bright Eyes was heaven's big church band conducted by the new president of the Lonely Hearts Club; the lyrics so true they hurt. I had inherited six Bright Eyes albums all at once, and I couldn't breathe until I knew every single word by heart.
When I came up for air five months later, my hair had grown long, and my lender's opinion of my borrowing skills was irreparable. But the love between Bright Eyes and I is the kind you take a few losses for.
If I get to pick a few songs, it'd be these, and in this order: (Listen along at The Moon Forces Metal: Bright Eyes)
For Your Playlist: Side A
1. "An Attempt to Tip the Scales" from Fevers and Mirrors
2. "From a Balance Beam" from LIFTED: Or, The Story Is in the Soil; Keep Your Ear To The Ground
3. "First Day of My Life" from I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning
4. "Theme from Pinata" from Digital Ash in a Digital Urn
5. "Happy Birthday To Me (Feb. 15)" from Noise Floor: Rarities
For Your Playlist: Side B (chosen by your humble hostess from a mix CD Allex made me in 2008)
1. "Method Acting" from LIFTED (warning: some strong language in this one)
2. "Landlocked Blues" from Motion Sickness: Live Recordings
3. "Down in a Rabbit Hole" from Digital Ash in a Digital Urn
4. "No One Would Riot for Less" from Cassadaga
5. Bonus Selection: "From A Balance Beam" by the Vitamin String Quartet's Tribute to Bright Eyes
A big vote of thanks to my talented sister, I think, is here due. You may pause the music to applaud... and now resume. Til next time, happy listening! Speaking of next time, get ready to hear my take on the talent behind Bright Eyes in the next post.
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