Noise Floor - Bright Eyes

Noise Floor

Bright Eyes
Saddle Creek Records.

SCQ Rating: 73%

After the duel release of I’m Wide Awake It’s Morning and Digital Ash in a Digital Urn placed Oberst’s Dylan-hype on overdrive, a retrospective was definitely in order… if not to provide Conor additional time to finish his much-anticipated Cassadaga but to put the past where it belongs. All his annexed ghosts and love-letters are gathered on Noise Floor; a mixed bag of forgotten songs that create a virtual connect-the-album with long-time fans.

After a customary collage of field-recordings opens the disc, we are reminded again of Oberst’s bipolar tendencies with the glitchy ‘I Will Be Grateful For This Day’ and country-hued ‘Trees Get Wheeled Away’. Both tracks are excellent and easily imagined on their respective electronic or country 2005 full-lengths but what’s best is that neither were readily downloadable in the past, making this far more credible than the average stop-gap release. Even the familiar b-sides that have been popular steals throughout the years are polished up and carefully chosen. ‘Drunk Kid Catholic’ and ‘Blue Angels Air Show’ boasts Oberst’s punk-love while a cover of Daniel Johnston and collaboration with the Album Leaf lend some unpredictability to the proceedings. The heart of this LP is still composed of our favourite Bright Eyes b-sides; those hidden gems we liked believing no one else knew about. ‘Amy in the White Coat’ and ‘Happy Birthday To Me (Feb. 15)’ are incredibly personal, murky remainders of Bright Eyes’ lo-fi period and I know I’m not the only fan who’s happy to see they finally have a home.

Beyond my completist tendencies, I’m smitten with Noise Floor because it managed to introduce me to a few songs that are now among my favourites. The newly recorded version of ‘Soon You Will Be Leaving Your Man’ from the Motion Sickness 7-inch takes its bittersweet time while ‘Weather Reports’ captures Oberst at his understated best: the humble guitarist, the lo-fi noise connoisseur, the drunken lyricist. Of course it’s still a compilation and as such, you’ll enjoy keeping your remote close by (‘The Vanishing Act’ is a rare misstep).

Writing this in hindsight of Cassadaga’s release, Oberst planned this well, not only capturing the best tracks from a prolific period but creating an exposition to his admittedly huge first chapter. Noise Floor is a last celebration of Oberst’s predominantly emo period that projects a clear lineage from teenage impulsiveness toward his talents as one of Americana’s premier singer-songwriters.