“Frank Sinatra was the best. Could put a bullet right through your chest. Well, every baby has Ol’ Blue Eyes. I guess they’re gonna live until they die.”
Welcome to the world of Conor Oberst.
Bright Eyes, an American indie rock band, was formed by Conor Oberst, Mike Mogis, and Nate Walcott in the late 1990s. It is primarily led—okay, in my view—by Oberst. Self-produced and recorded at ARC Studios in Omaha, Nebraska, this album showcases a high level of production and sound quality. This is their first album since 2020, and, I think, their best since 2005’s “I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning,” which has one of the best openers of any album. Period.
If you’re unfamiliar with it, I’ll let you look that one up (!), but “Five Dices, All Threes” starts with an ominous dice-playing skit, Five Dice, making sense as the album progresses. It then cheerfully skips into Bells and Whistles, one of their poppiest tunes in years (well, one of the poppiest tunes I’ve heard from Oberst, with funny lyrics such as “And you shouldn’t place bets on the New York Mets, ’cause at best it’s hypothetical.”).
El Capitan has a folky twang and focuses on themes of love, betrayal, and personal turmoil. Very personal. If you can wrap your head around it all. It begins softly but then has a powerful chorus with heavy percussion and trumpets. Lyrically, Oberst is at his most dark but also precious, painting a story of betrayal:
“So you’re playing your Nintendo, spun out like a gramophone, living in a basement, sleeping down there all alone. The conditions were perfect, more perfect for a perfect storm. Then they found you in the morning hanging from an extension cord.“
“Your betrayal was apropos. You said I’m washed up and that’s what I get for growing old.“
“So they’re burning you an effigy. Well, that happens to me all the time!”
The lyrics reflect themes of love and loss, with the crescendo underscoring the turmoil expressed in the verses.
Named after a Dutch performance artist, Bas Jan Ader continues exploring themes of aging, existential disillusionment, and the search for meaning. The song’s religious imagery and reflections on the passage of time create a melancholy atmosphere, with Oberst grappling with ideas of faith and futility. The imagery of a “Shamrock on a jacket, dropped into a casket” adds a vivid but pretty morbid quality to the song’s narrative, which, at one point, states:
“And the public schools tried to ban Mark Twain, when they knew that it wasn’t right. Well, it takes a lot of nerve. To live on planet Earth. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.
It was the worst.”
He admits towards the end: “I never thought I’d see 45. How is it that I’m still alive?”
Tiny Suicides continues the album’s darker themes, featuring a minimal soft piano and guitar arrangement. Oberst’s vocal delivery adds an emotional weight as he sings about the futility of existence, mainly through the line, “Someday we all die, why give into these tiny suicides?” The imagery is stark and deeply existential, making this one of the heaviest emotional pieces on the album.
One of the nice things about the album is Oberst’s willingness to collaborate. The first example is All Threes, a haunting track where Cat Power guests. Their shared vocals and the jazzy piano create a unique atmosphere, with lyrics that delve into themes of regret and loss.
“Elon Musk in virgin whites. I’d kill him in an alley over five dice. You were beautiful before. God, you were beautiful before. You were so beautiful before… Until you weren’t, until you weren’t.
All threes, all threes, all threes, all threes.”
A shift in mood, Rainbow Overpass brings punk-inspired energy to the album (not surprising as it is credited as being co-written and having Alex Orange Drink of Brooklyn punk outfit, The So So Glos, onboard) with lo-fi percussion and lively guitar work. Despite the upbeat music, the lyrics remain introspective and heavy, with Oberst likening life to driving while “asleep at the wheel.” His introspective lyrics make you feel like he’s speaking directly to your experiences.
Hate features Oberst repeatedly singing “I hate.” It comes across as a raw and somewhat unfiltered venting of frustration. “I hate the way you turn and walk away. I hate the way my heart anticipates. I hate dreaming. I hate sleeping.”
Possibly the best song on the album, Real Feel 105° hides its existential themes behind a seemingly traditional love song format. Lyrics such as “Where you saw a rope swing, I saw a noose” are striking in their juxtaposition of innocence and… just darkness. This song highlights a romantic relationship marked by tension and contrasts, blending Oberst’s poetic imagery with an emotional musical arrangement. There is a weariness to his singing by the end of it all.
“I’m so tired of all this light and sound. Asleep on my feet. You’re all that I dream of now. Come over here, lay back down
You’re all that I dream of.”
Spun Out is one of the album’s more experimental pieces, blending a sense of desperation with unexpected elements to create an unpredictable but engaging listening experience. Samples from the Frank Sinatra film Suddenly (1954) contribute to the song’s atmosphere, emphasizing themes of emotional disarray and alienation. When a song starts with the lyric “Out on the ledge, the worst temptation. The great summation ensues, “… you know you’re in for a treat.
The Trains Still Run on Time is very pointed. The lyrics reflect Oberst’s frustration with fame culture and the public’s misplaced values, as highlighted in lines like “Another unicorn in a uniform, made in America on a factory floor.” The imagery speaks to the artificiality of celebrity and consumerism, while the mention of “the orchestra plays a cartoon score for war” underscores the trivialization of serious global issues. Musically, it incorporates a mix of folk and rock influences, adding a rhythmic drive to its incisive social commentary.
Matt Berninger of The National appears in The Time I Have Left. This track embodies the album’s existential core, delving into the uncertainties of life. The communal, sing-along feel contrasts with the weight of the lyrical content, creating an intimate – yet poignant – piece that touches on both the fear of mortality and the shared human experience.
“The question is- Question is- The question is the same. I’d like to ask you the time. I’d like to ask you the time…That I have left.”
And then, together, let’s do a few “sha-la-lalalas” to finish the song. Yay!
Finally, one of my favorite tracks is Tin Soldier Boy, which is closing out the album. This track provides a glimpse of hope.
“Our days are numbered. Hear the countdown. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 more round. Everybody gather round.”
But then the refrain: “Soldier on, soldier on, tin soldier boy,” suggesting a determination to keep moving despite all of the world’s f**king uncertainties.
The song is permeated by ambiguity, leaving listeners with a mix of emotions — hopeful yet wary. It’s a fitting end to an album that spends much of its time navigating the complexities of life, love, and mortality.
Conclusion
Overall, I found “Five Dice, All Threes” to be one of Bright Eyes’ most revealing albums, providing a mix of lyrical darkness and musical spontaneity.
It captures Conor Oberst’s raw vulnerability, political frustrations, and ongoing search for meaning while balancing moments of hope and despair. The album’s range—from intimate, quiet tracks to those brimming with punk energy—underscores Bright Eyes’ ability to evolve while staying true to their emotional core.
I enjoyed Oberst’s solo work, 2017’s “Salutations,” a bit more. I also enjoyed “Better Oblivion Community Center” in 2019, which he did with Phoebe Bridgers perhaps slightly more. But “Five Dices, All Threes” was a fun listen, especially lyrically.
Oberst is a lyrically rewarding artist, albeit a challenging one.
“Five Dice, All Threes” proves it.
8.5/10
Chris Garrod, October 11, 2024