Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. XLV--Bright Eyes: Lua

While I realize that great music can come from any old place, I have to admit that when I think of such places, Omaha, Nebraska isn't exactly high on the list.  It's possible, sure, but....

Fortunately, geography isn't a litmus test for great music--and as such, this week's featured song comes straight from America's breadbasket, right there in the great state of Nebraska, specifically, the city of Omaha, and one Conor Oberst, the (very) young man behind Bright Eyes.

I don't really remember what I was doing when I was thirteen (though it probably had something to do with baseball and the sinking feeling that I wasn't ever going to be any good at that whole girls thing), but I most certainly wasn't releasing my debut album.  Conor Oberst was.  And he has been at it ever since, in may different incarnations (Desaparecidos, Monsters of Folk, Mystic Valley Band), and at the age of thirty-five has had as full of a career as many acts pack into several decades.  He also has the distinction of being one of the few acts to have singles holding the #1 ("Lua") and #2 ("Take It Easy (Love Nothing)" on the Billboard Hot Singles Sales Chart.

Released on the most excellent I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning album, "Lua" ("Lua" is the Portuguese word for moon--most sensible definition I found) is basically Conor Oberst and his acoustic guitar (the guitar remains perfect lightly strummed background noise throughout).  The song belies the youthful age (24) of its songwriter--there's a maturity, especially in its resignation, that one doesn't usually see in someone so young.  There is no happy ending in "Lua"--both characters have fucked up lives and their lives are still going to be fucked up tomorrow.  There's also an honesty in both its portrayal and its truths (the line "you can count on me to split"  is a perfect example) that makes it work despite its rather depressing subjects.

The other strength of the song comes in Oberst's vocals, which are figuratively reminiscent of Kris Kristofferson's in "Help Me Make It Through the Night" (with a much similar subject).  His voice is full of sorrow but not defeat (yet), and he expresses it with some really amazing pregnant pauses and quirky inflections.  Vocally, Oberst is like an actor putting it all out there in a climactic scene--he's baring it all, and whether he succeeds or fails, he's going to do it magnificently.

Needless to say, Oberst succeeds magnificently.

Truer words and all that:  "'Cause what is simple in the moonlight by the morning never is...."

Enjoy:

Peace,
emaycee