As I dive into Bright Eyes’ latest offering Five Dice, All Threes released this week, I must admit the band — and its frontman, Conor Oberst — has long eluded my musical radar. Picking up a Bright Eyes album does feel like starting at the end of a long-running series, three decades in the making. The self-referential nature of the lyrics and the internal baggage of the band’s history are lost on me, along with the 2000s-era indie wave that first carried Oberst and company to prominence.
Long time fans the internet wide seem to suggest this knowledge is a necessary step to “get” the band, but in solidarity with the albums themes I took a gamble, and rolled all threes.
Five Dice, All Threes stands on its own quirky, offbeat merits and is something I enjoyed, warts and all. It’s a really fun album, but certainly not for everyone. It’s both a chaotic and often confusing ride that lives and dies by its own authenticity, for better and for worse. It’s a fascinating jump into the bands oddball world, and a genre journey of alt/indie/folk stylings that’s well worth giving a shot if you’re willing to roll the dice.
Track by Track: Five Dice, All Threes
“Five Dice”
The album kicks off with a spoken-word vignette that explains the rules of the dice game alluded to in the album’s title. Backed by an increasingly disorienting soundscape of warped carnival music and clattering vintage radio broadcasts, the avant-garde introduction is, based on my research, something of a hallmark in Bright Eyes’ catalog. Despite taking up a minute and a half of album real estate, I’m a sucker for the blending of vintage audio clips, and it truly sets an interesting tone.
“Bells and Whistles”
The real opener, “Bells and Whistles”, bursts in with bright, charming, almost Beatles-esque energy, though it quickly morphs as Oberst’s shaky, warbling vocals cut through the sheen. Oberst’s voice is undoubtedly an acquired taste, but there’s something undeniably compelling in the rawness of his delivery.
The opening lines, “I was cruel like a president / It was wrong but I ordered it,” are biting and direct. The refrain “Bells and whistles, cheap thrills cost a lot” is a prime example of a moment where emotional delivery overshadows technical polish. In Oberst’s case, that’s what makes it work. In my opinion, authenticity typically outweighs polish, and there’s something more captivating about a voice that is more sincere than perfect.
“El Capitan”
Pushing along with the rhythm of a chugging train and glorious, blaring horns is “El Capitan.” The production combines to form something of an indie-country mashup with Bright Eyes’ trademark stamped on it. It’s a confusing combination of a love song and lyrics about suicide by extension cord. I somehow had no idea what was going on, but I was along for the ride.
“Bas Jan Ader”
Feeling I was liable to miss something, a quick Google search showed that the following track, “Bas Jan Ader,” is titled in reference to a Dutch performance artist and photographer who sailed off into the Atlantic Ocean in 1975, never to be seen again. This is in stark contrast to a song that kicks in sounding more like a 1950s radio pop song about holding hands that would fit next to Sam Cooke’s “Wonderful World.” Oberst trades Cooke’s science books for lyrics like “It takes a lot of nerve to live on planet earth.” The song throws in some nods to Mark Twain and Charles Dickens while maintaining strong melodic sensibilities and hitting the catchiest chorus on the album in my opinion.
“Tiny Suicides” + “All Three’s”
“Tiny Suicides” follows up with a sincere piano ballad, one of the first tunes that feels less like you need to re-read the lyrics to “get it.” It just so happens to hide a gut punch behind the stripped-back sounds of piano and guitar swells. “All Three’s” follows with another piano-centric track that stands out in large part due to the co-singing duties courtesy of Cat Power.
It’s frustrating to know that too much of this would ruin the novelty, but the album desperately cries out for more of this combination of pristine vocals and Oberst’s raspy, downer lyrics. Despite this, I find the track does drag on a little longer than it needs. The energy shift should be a welcome one, with more restrained production and a bit of lounge jazz piano soloing to boot, but it doesn’t quite work for me.
“Rainbow Overpass” + “Hate”
Smartly placed, “Rainbow Overpass” pulls the rug out from its acoustic introduction to reveal a hidden punk-rock-tinged thumper of a track. A brilliant antidote to the slower middle section, the energy in lines like “But I’m not shutting down, I’m shutting up. So you won’t hear me when I say everything’s okay” provides a much-needed shot in the arm. “Hate” follows with some of the least vague lyrics on the album, as Oberst goes through his grocery list of deities he hates, with a few comparisons to cult leaders David Koresh and Jim Jones. There is no mistaking lines about “sadistic hallelujahs” and “bad guys” always winning. The deconstruction of religious imagery and its followers is maybe a bit accidentally funny in how comprehensive it is, but the turn in the finale ensure this escapes the elementary spitball shooting at religion that it first suggests.
“Real Feel 105°” + “Spun Out”
Despite a pretty consistent combination of guitar, drums, and bass, it should be noted that the album throws in a fair amount of instrumentation. From horns and jazz piano, the addition of the mandolin-heavy “Real Feel 105°” is really excellent. “Spun Out” also throws in a a journey through musical soundscapes, including a turntable wormhole moment that counters Oberst’s pining for the rosé in his fridge. The theme of addiction rings loud with lyrics that are pretty vile if you place a magnifying glass on it, for instance “I’ll make a wish, I’m a kid with cancer, I’m out to pasture, It was spring for a day”, but contextually it works.
“Trains Still Run On Time”
“Trains Still Run On Time” arguably delivers one of the more entertaining tracks on the album, with a super upbeat, fun tune despite its contrary lyrical content. The strings and orchestral moments in the middle are a particular standout. The lyrics are also particularly biting, with moments like “Made in America, on an assembly line. Where they make mass hysteria, yeah, it’s all streamlined,” making American Idiot feel like a nursery rhyme tune by comparison.
“The Time I Have Left”
Following the ping-ponging nature of the album, this track is another stripped-back downer that feels like a weird trip through a U2-tinged Nick Cave tune. That’s true until the turntable scratches kick in, but feels accurate once again when the “Sha la la la’s” arrive. This one is a unique melancholic track, but as the album goes on, I could use something that captures the imagination a little more.
“Tin Soldier Boy”
“Tin Soldier Boy” doesn’t stray too far from the well, but it is a perfectly well-written and performed acoustic tune, tinged with a few lovely moments of piano and swelling instrumentation. Not a bad full stop to conclude the album, the booming and catchy chorus is welcomed, as is the harmonica and slide guitar.
Final Thoughts
Five Dice, All Threes has a brash sense of imagination, a contradicting arrogant nervousness and carefree attitude that’s closer to a band riding the early waves of creative momentum than an eleventh studio album. It’s a heady mixture of indulgence, inimitable individualism, and full-frontal lyricism that jumps out with the blunt force impact of a freight train but is delivered with soft-spoken poetry that sometimes gets drowned out by the roar of its own engine.
This mixture of confidently emotional introspection, delivered with the timbre of a man seconds from a panic attack, is a delightful contradiction that I suspect has kept eyes and ears on the band since the turn of the millennium. It’s not always an easy listen, and it can certainly lead itself away from it’s best qualities. It’s here where that creativity can feel like a lack of care to the audience. It’s ultimately rewarding however when it clicks and morse so if you “get it”, while it’s more than reasonable to suspect many won’t. Universal appeal isn’t on offer here, and that’s fine.
Ultimately, what’s exciting though, is that the album is so well presented, and so unique that it encourages exploration to a new generation who find it. For me the album was a signpost that says “Go Back!” and before I knew it “First Day of My Life” was on my road trip playlist. I’ll certainly work my way through the bands past, but I’m arguably more excited to be there for the future.
THREE AND A HALF STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
Five Dice, All Threes is out now. Grab it HERE
Header image credit: Nik Freitas
