- 2019 began with some strange babble surrounding something called, “Better Oblivion Community Center”. Google searches would show planetary pamphlets with hieroglyphics and a hotline with a cultish recorded message. Fortunately, this was not the birth of another Scientology, but a new alt-folk band consisting of brilliant songwriters, Phoebe Bridgers and Conor Oberst. The former is the new indie-folk wunderkind, occupying the role Oberst held over a decade ago. With her sterling debut album, Stranger in the Alps, Bridgers cemented herself as one of the most talented new songwriters in the world. The latter, one of many who has landed the ‘New Dylan’ sobriquet, Oberst (formerly of cult folk band Bright Eyes) is one of few who deserves the comparison, as his lyrical prowess is almost unmatched by songwriters of his, or just about any other generation. There's always a danger when bringing big talents together, trying to interlock their unique gifts. Even when the supergroup is only two it can be challenging, but then Bridgers and Oberst really do bring a lot of magic.
Despite both artists’ previous respective collaborations (Boygenius and Monsters of Folk), Better Oblivion Community Center isn’t simply a piecemeal composite of each artists' songs. Instead it’s a pure collaboration with Bridgers and Oberst sharing lead vocal duties and writing songs together. Despite being adored for their maudlin writing, Bridgers and Oberst still offers moments of jaunty bliss and good feels. For example, lead single, Dylan Thomas is as fun as anything the two have written, despite the less than exuberant lyrics. Then of course, the album packs a few of those sad acoustic songs. Opener, I Didn’t Know What I Was in For is a poignant admonishment of our ‘slackivist’ culture, with lines like, “I didn’t know what I was in for when I signed up for that run / There’s no way I’m curing cancer but I’ll sweat it out / I feel so proud now for all the good I’ve done” before concluding, “I’ve never really done anything for anyone.”
One of the album’s highlights is eighth track, Forest Lawn, named after a Los Angeles cemetery. A finger-picking acoustic gem, with a chorus that is a play on words, with Oberst and Bridgers quipping, “Since you went underground / I’ve wanted to track you down / Since you went underground / I’ve wanted to dig you out.” Beyond the double meaning, Oberst, shows off his penchant for observation when writing about a party, asking, “Why does everybody always end up in the kitchen?”
Although, the pair are adroit songwriters, arguably the best song on the album is its closer, a Taylor Hollingsworth cover called Dominos. Sure, this album doesn’t quite have the force of either artists’ respective solo works, but fans of Bridgers and Oberst will no doubt enjoy this fun and darkly beautiful album. Given the hype for the vaunted collaboration it's almost inevitable that it would deliver slightly less than imagined and, conversely, it hardly matters as it gets fannishly devoured. On the flipside, if by some unlikely chance you get to approach this record with few preconceptions, then you'll be lucky enough to enjoy it for what it is, which is really quite a lot.
- Jon Cloumassis.