Bright Eyes
I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning

It's the closeness and the honesty which makes 'I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning' a thing of awe. The compulsive, calculated attention to detail is in the Braille textured production, but it's the lyrics where Conor shines through, with every sniff of journo-sensationalism shot down. There're nods to the beats in 'Travelling Song' and closing screams at the travesty of modern day war, with just about every 30seconds offering wide-eared wonderment, such as the sweetness of a gypsy placing a lucky flower in his hair and the dark everyday correlation of a child pointing a twig gun.

If you listen too closely you can already hear rows of inspired OC viewers marching away from a world that allows apes to reclaim the planet. Then again, there's a real sense of wanting to preach beyond the converted and it's that which is truly exciting. Subtle, news paper reading, coffee-shop punk is the future.

It feels, at the time of writing, like this is a classic album or at least an album thats importance can't be scotch-missed, because it's saturated with the detritus of the decade. Hyperbole? Maybe. Maybe not. But when you add it all up (plus the fact there's the amazing maple syrup vocals of Emmy-Lou Harris and Azure Ray), put it in a context and begin to believe what this could be a catalyst into building, then the prospect is more exciting than Conor accepting an Elvis style movie contract. Add melodies far beyond his 24years and this is truly special.

So buy this, hear the things you've been half-dreaming and if nothing else, help fill Conor's mouth with bourbon fuel for the next album which should drop in time to soundtrack some realistic political opposition. And anyway, you know you'll only end up buying this in 5/10/20/30 years time... if there is any world left to buy it in.