Day 7, Bright Eyes - Cassadaga

Cassadaga by Bright Eyes continues this country/folk/rock chain that has linked a lot of this journey together, but it is not without its own virtues and personality.

I first came across Bright Eyes on an unlabeled mix CD of my girlfriend’s favorite tracks. I knew most of the songs on the CD pretty well (she is a huge Jethro Tull, Led Zeppelin, and Tool fan…doesn’t she rock?) but there was one major outlier. I was first struck by the singer’s unique choked-up voice, then comforted by the familiar folk/rock sound, and lastly intrigued by the weighty and complex lyrics. I inquired about it and I learned it was Bright Eyes’ “We are Nowhere and It’s Now,” from the album Motion Sickness.

Bright Eyes is striking, if you get the right song. “We are Nowhere…” still sits on the tip of my brain with its legs dangling off the edge, whistling along constantly. Now, the track “Four Winds,” is sitting right beside it. “Four Winds” sounds like a country hoe-down on steroids, and is lyrically like a young poet’s wild dream. It opens with three full choruses of violin solo. An odd number for a solo, for one, but since this is the first real song of the album, the delay seems exaggerated. This was a cool choice, because it both sets the mood and builds the tension. So here you are: head-banging, two-stepping, and curious until you are hit hard with “Your class, your caste, your country, sect, your name or your tribe - There's people always dying trying to keep them alive.” It would be one of the most badass openings to an album I’ve ever heard, but for some reason they decided to include a three minute ambient ramble as the first track. I don’t really know how this fits—perhaps to remind people that Bright Eyes really isn’t a country group, they just play one on TV.

But the whole album falls short after “Four Winds.” I do not mean to say that the rest of the album is poor; they just played their cards too early. “If the Brakeman…,” “Hot Knifes,” “Classic Cars,” are all killer tunes, but just shadowed. Also, the album is little tiring. Oberst’s songs have some of the most trying lyrics I’ve ever heard. Every thought is an illusion to a moment, which is a reference to a theme, which relates to the song. It’s gorgeous, but exhausting. I listened to Cassadaga five times over the past few days (I cheated over the weekend…again) and I am only beginning to understand what the songs are about. I actually had to sit down and read the lyrics to get the idea. But this is not really a criticism, more of a warning. It is rewarding when you get there.

A solid album with a bunch of good songs, one amazing song, and a lot of words to think about.