Conor Oberst - Conor Oberst

, indie God. Granted, we’re not sure he’s got a copyright on that term - we’re not sure he’d even use it, that particular phrase being the result of being unable to think of the word ‘legend’ without beered-up England fans peering in to our minds, fresh from terrorising some Mediterranean resort. The sort of indie God whose presence is almost guaranteed on any soppy mixtape created by sensitive types for the boy or girl of their dreams, and who’s suddenly decided to release another solo album, just thirteen years after his last. Some of his worshippers probably weren’t even born then.

And, not only has he decided to release the record ‘as himself’ - it’s worryingly easy to refer to the man and not the musical project as Bright Eyes, after all - but he’s named the record ‘Conor Oberst’, too! Far be it for us to suggest he’s been a bit lazy, but…

Oh, we jest! ‘Conor Oberst’ (the album, not the man, although the same could go for him too) is really rather good. On first glance, it’s essentially more of the same - warm guitars, clever lyricisms and those unmistakeable vocals, but it’s stripped-down Conor. There’s none of the pomp or ceremony (OK, string sections) heard in Bright Eyes’ last effort, ‘Cassadaga’.

Instead, there’s the perfect juxtaposition between mood of lyric and melody in ‘I Don’t Want To Die (In The Hospital)’, the perfectly punctuated but not-quite-cliche of ‘Souled Out!!!’ (‘there’s nothing that the road cannot heal’? Anyone less than an indie God would be laughed at!) , and the almost frustratingly beautiful ‘Lenders In The Temple’, a track which, thanks to ‘if I loved you then that’s my fault’, is currently jostling for top spot in our entirely made up chart of lyrics we’d love to have written.

And, given that we are talking about an indie God, and patron saint of mixtapes (can one man be both?), it’s worth noting that album closer, ‘Milk Thistle’, is as pretty, delicate and intimate as you’re likely to get this year. Conjuring up images not unlike the album’s sleeve itself, a hint to sensitive teenage boys: put this on there, it’ll get her!

With the charm and familiarity which means you’ve listened to this a hundred times if you’ve just played it once, ‘Conor Oberst’ (the album) might not be anything surprising, but it’s quietly magical.