Conor Oberst & the Mystic Valley Band

Outer South (Merge )

By Amanda McCorquodale
Published: May 29th, 2009 | 7:00am

Indie music fans can be divided in to those who go all weak in the knees at the sound of Conor Oberst’s quavering voice and those who grimace in pain. Through his moniker, Bright Eyes, Obsert has successfully maintained a doe-eyed, angst-ridden, crooning presence on the indie rock scene for the last 10 years. He flirted with alt-country on 2007’s Cassadaga (Saddle Creek), but he really flew the Bright Eyes’ coop last year when he ventured into the deserts of Mexico, teamed up the Mystic Valley Band, and recorded his first non-Bright Eyes album, Conor Oberst (Merge).

Now stationed just a smidge north in El Paso, Oberst has recorded another album, Outer South, with the Mystic Valley Band. Considering that this album bursts its seams at 70 minutes and was recorded just under a year since the last, you get the sense that Oberst is very excited about his new trajectory. And that’s a damn shame — because Outer South is remarkably unspectacular.

Although the tracks themselves sound rather crowded, the album is steeped in a mildness that often characterizes artist’s work after they have a kid or kick an addiction. And on Outer South, it’s hard to tell where to place the blame; Oberst doesn’t sing seven of the album's 16 songs, and of those, he only wrote one track.

However, there are tracks that steer near to where it felt like Outer South should have traveled. “Roosevelt Room” succeeds with a desperately shouting Oberst backed by more classic guitar rock than has accompanied him before. The mellow “White Shoes” is a satisfying taste of his expected affectations, and “Ten Women” is a fun listen, even though some may believe it unabashedly aspires to be too Dylan-esque. “Big Black Nothing” — sung not by Obsert, but by Nik Freitas and joined by the whole gang ohhing and hand clapping — is simply a great song and perhaps the only one that will garner repeat listens.

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