In which I am transported.

[askygoneonfire]

I just listened to the Bright Eyes Every Day and Every Night EP all the way through for the first time.  Neely O’Hara is a stunning piece of music.  There are echoes of many other songs by my favourite bands – there’s late Radiohead, Spiritualized, Sigor Rós.....in short, lots of hauntingly-confused, massive, sweeping soundscapes.  The strangest thing, for me at least is that from around the 3 minute mark the music descends into a clambering mess of sound clips, musical dalliances and cries from Conor Oberst.  The resulting cacophony struck a chord deep in me and with some surprise I realised what I was listening to was a representation of what it sounds like in my head, when I’m manic.  Listening to it is simultaneously confusing, terrifying, familiar and amusing.  Given Conor Oberst suffers from manic depression* it seems fair to conclude that this similarity is not accidental nor is this dramatic and complicated piece of music incidental to the EP as a whole. 

Bright Eyes consistently produce epic and beautiful pieces of music.  Until quite recently I simply could not listen to Bright Eyes for any length of time – I would listen to Poison Oak, First Day of My Life and not a lot else.  The musical landscape Conor Oberst offers was too unpredictable, too sprawling and too raw for me to be able to listen to.  I found it unsettling in such an acute way that I put it on the banned list for any shared listening (in the car, in the flat on the weekends, dinner parties) that Ali and I did (Ali vetoed David Bowie in return).  Flash forward (a convenient tool which is sadly lacking in non-blogged life) to July this year and suddenly – and it truly was sudden – I find myself irresistibly drawn to the small selection of Bright Eyes Ali had placed on my iPod some years previously.

I find it difficult to explain what changed within me – and change it definitely did – which enabled me to finally embrace the Bright Eyes back catalogue.  I have tried looking at what was happening around me at the time and been unable to identify anything significant.  Indeed the only thing I can point to is Seroquel – I had been taking it for a little over a month at the point Bright Eyes no longer sounded like a terrifying, uncontrolled mess of noise.  I find the prospect that an imbalance of brain chemicals could have been responsible for me being unable to process certain pieces of music a fascinating one**.

In the context of Every Day and Every Night, Neely O’Hara is the climax of the brief compilation which has the now familiar to me themes of mirrors, fevers, alienation, loss of the self and paranoia/confusion running through it from the very beginning of its first track – the brilliant A Line Allows Progress, A Circle Does Not.  Evidently, for me, it is also the culmination of what Bright Eyes do so well – which is produce music which is far more than the sum of its parts which can transport us as listeners and reflect or describe the ways in which we have previously been transported which, in experiencing, seem to be too complex and too formless to articulate.  And that is no mean feat.

* ETA: I was sure this was true, but googling I can't seem to find any mention of it - only analysis of lyrics and mentions of the strong influence of Daniel Johnston on Oberst's writing. Anyone know if this is actually correct? If not it completely messes up what I've written!

** I know a few people on my f-list are taking Seroquel too, anyone else experience anything similar?