Every Day and Every Night
11/01/1999 | Shredding Paper | Album Review
This is the third release (after two albums) of downtrodden songs of lo-fi acoustic guitar and violin from this ball of depression that calls himself Bright Eyes. Conor Oberst, whose fragile screech reminds me of Paul Westerberg's soaked wailings, is convincingly miserable, and his anguish seems pretty genuine. Though these qualities are on the right track to this reviewer's affections, his cracking moan is depressing in a way I don't feel like being a part of. I know misery loves company, but sometimes when you see it coming you just gotta look the other way.