Once again, proving myself to be a bit behind the times - although I don't believe I ever posted about Cassadaga in the first place, so I guess this is OK.
I started listening to Bright Eyes in 2003, pressed on by hearing "Drunk Kids & Catholics", "Trees Get Wheeled Away", and "Method Acting" on the local college station - I didn't really have any idea of his reputation at the time, or even that his home was so near mine; merely that, wow, this guy was kinda crazy - but I bought Lifted... nevertheless and, well, hated it. Not quite that strongly, but I listened to it a few times and put it back on the shelf in favor of the Cure or whatever I was listening to most frequently at the time. I kept up with him, however, and, indeed, bought I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning and Digital Ash in a Digital Urn on the day of their release. That's when, without sounding too Natalie Portman, my life changed. More or less. I was captivated by (just about) every track on both, and they rapidly became my favorite albums of 2005. I stood in Memorial Park in the drenching rain for two hours last June, to be rewarded with "Well Whiskey" - that was devotion, I thought.
So when Cassadaga was released earlier this year, I was a little apprehensive. Could anything touch that duo? I'd heard it was another on his alt. country bent, which left me pleased... but still I wasn't sure if I ought to buy it or not. Once I finally got the guts to click "Buy now", I knew I couldn't have made a better decision. From the weird-y optical illusion packaging to the liner notes, this would be another in a list of fantastic 2007 releases. My favorite track?
"If the Brakeman Turns My Way" is simply extraordinary. It's somehow exactly like and completely unlike everything Bright Eyes has ever released; it dances around therapeutics (Better take a little time to level out...) and throws itself headlong into Oberst's obsession with Middle America and trains (one he shares with Michael Stipe). His vocals are clearly influenced more than ever by M. Ward, but he keeps the quavering joy he's always had as the chorus explodes from a shaky pedal-steel opening verse that's less of a lyric than an introductory monologue to some old black-and-white documentary, perhaps recited by Tom Waits. At first, the chorus seems anticlimactic - but what were you expecting? The verses still prance in that old-but-young voice, reiterating all those scenes of desolation in America we first heard on tracks like "Train Under Water". (First a mother bathes her child, then the other way around. The scales always find a way to level out.) The bridge almost takes you by surprise - don't distract me! I'm waiting for the final chorus! - but it's full of Westerbergian lines (A dime store mystery, but I'm a repeat first-time offender who's rewritten history). And then, finally, that last chorus. Here the song reaches its zenith with a typical huge grin - and it's over in shimmering organ.
Right now this track seems to be on par with "Intervention", "Underwater (You and Me)" and "A Comet Appears" for Best Song of 2007 (here, anyway). Maybe it'll be a four-way tie (for first).
[Buy Cassadaga]
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