Bright Eyes – The People’s Key (2011) [Saddle Creek] // Grade: B-

On “Haile Selassie,” Conor Oberst sings about the end. “All of our days are numbered; I’m taking some comfort in knowing the wave has crested, knowing I don’t have to be an exception.” Though Omaha’s wunderkind may have cut his image on behaving like he was nothing but the exception, it’s been since 2007’s mystical trip Cassadega, that the ever-longhaired, 31-year-old Oberst grew more obsessed with Sci-Fi books by the likes of Vonnegut and Wells to create what he calls a humanist record.

The People’s Key, recorded over a year in their hometown of Omaha after a pair of solo releases, a supergroup offering and some protest shows, is that record. Offering up ten heavy new songs that continue in an attempt at furthering their range outside of the ‘roosty Americana shit’ they seem to be shying away from, players Mike Mogis, Nate Walcott and guest appearances from The Faint, Autolux and Cursive members, dot the album with hazy synths, Cure-like guitars (closer “One For You, One For Me” is a treat), driving power pop (“Jejune Stars,” “Triple Spiral”) and muted, midnight blues warbles (“Approximate Sunlight”) to make it certainly one of the more assessable Oberst-related efforts of late. Encompassing and meandering, the 46-minute People’s Key is a collection that begs more questions then it can answer, largely in part from the fragmented side-of-the-road monologue ramblings of Refried Ice Cream member Denny Brewer which stitches the thing together. Dotted with spirituality, the theory of evolution, why a pomegranate is called a pomegranate, extraterrestrials and nods to Hitler, Eva Braun, smoke trees, Zion treks, black machines and a macaw named Jules Verne, Oberst deals, this time, with a more universal fear, one that we all tend to quiver about every once in a while- the future and how humanity will adapt going forward.

In recent interviews the singer expresses concern with walking into a room to see heads bowed to cellphones, people texting away like robots. Though already scratched by some, Oberst’s latest set of qualms  make his band’s 9th collection– and possibly last– a thought provoking trip at least. Still a lovesick poet belting from a rocking chair about things he’s powerless to fix, Oberst sings on single “Shell Games” about a greater concern: “Death obsessed, like a teenager, sold my tortured youth, piss and vinegar, still angry with no reason to be at the architect who imagined this.” Moments like this help to make The People’s Key a Bright Eyes’ album- the downright confusion, the concerns and the fact that you’re left to figure it all out. Whereas the early catalog went after how he could leap from outside of his bedroom and away from his waxing neuroticisms to deal with the outside world looking in, we’re now finding the wide-eyed ‘Next Dylan’ transcending to some humanitarian stance where he’s eager for greater enlightenment, acceptance and awareness from this outside world of his.

- The Holloweyed