Bright Eyes - Noise Floor (Rarities: 1998–2005)

Who knew that Conor Oberst, frontman of the ever-changing Bright Eyes collective, was an amateur sound engineer? The title for his band's newest release, Noise Floor, is a reference to signal theory – a noise floor is the sum of all unwanted noises in an audio recording. This is rather appropriate for Bright Eyes' latest, which is not a traditional studio album but rather a collection of rare and out-of-print songs that never made it to an official LP.

In spite of its technical title, Noise Floor is anything but calculated and structured. It never succeeds in establishing a consistent sound. The tracks stutter along, making poor transitions with one another. There's neither a clear aesthetic nor chronological progression. Themes are not present in the record, lyrically or sonically. In fact, the only things tying Noise Floor together are Oberst's bleeding-heart lyrics and his quivering vocal stylings. Simply put, it feels sloppy.

But this is to be expected. Keep in mind that Noise Floor is not a traditional album. It is a set of sketches, rough songs that never made it to a studio album. They were not written at the same time, with any idea of unity in mind. Besides, even though they provide no sense of coherency when thrown together, the individual songs on Noise Floor are excellent.


Bright Eyes - "Trees Get Wheeled Away"; live (???)
For example, take "I Will Be Grateful for This Day." The song practically explodes in your stereo with a stuttering drum machine before leveling with a numbing synth line and Conor crying out, "Your heartbeat's what I tried to play/ with kick and snares so careless." The electric beat is nasty, and Oberst's straight-from-the-diary lyrics are as quotable as ever. "Blue Angels Air Show," another excellent track, evokes an electro-grunge sound as Oberst recounts the story of a summer crush he once had.

But those are the only two electronic pieces on a 16-song record. The opening track, "Mirrors and Fevers," is nothing more than crowd noise and a few a cappella vocals. "I've Been Eating (for You)" is one of Oberst's signature acoustic ballads, while "Drunk Kid Catholic" compares religion to alcoholism over a gentle piano line. Another excellent piece, "Happy Birthday to Me (Feb. 15)," embraces the orchestrated folk-pop sound that vaulted Bright Eyes to indie stardom on the album Lifted.

On "Motion Sickness," Oberst says "I want to get myself attached to something bolted down/ so these winds of circumstance won't keep blowing around." If Noise Floor is any indication, Oberst has not been bolted down just yet. His music remains ephemeral and mutable as ever, and this disc serves as an excellent reminder of that. The sheer variety can be either highly frustrating or highly interesting, depending on whom you ask.

If you are a Bright Eyes fan dying for more material, Noise Floor will not disappoint. Despite its eccentricity, it showcases all the things we love in Oberst's neurotic tunes – the LiveJournal lyrics, heartfelt acoustic guitar, the occasional drum machine and good solid songwriting. However, if you are looking for an introduction to Bright Eyes, it would probably be better to grab one of the band's more coherent LPs or wait for their upcoming studio album.

Originally published for the Cavalier Daily:
http://www.cavalierdaily.com/news/2006/nov/02/one-noisy-compilation/