It's rare that pop music reaches such depths of emotion. Fevers And Mirrors, the debut album from Conner Oberst's Bright Eyes, may recall many other classic tortured artists-- Tim Buckley, naive blues poet Daniel Johnston and Leonard Cohen not least among them--but its fragility and melancholy is most definitely its own. The pivotal track is the opening "A Spindle, A Darkness, A Fever, And A Necklace" wherein the Nebraska-born singer's trembling voice attempts to answer a fuzzy recording of a child pleading a dread of separation, and fails. Elsewhere, on songs like the frantic "The Calendar Hung Itself" and "Sunrise, Sunset", the melodies become even more poignant, even more beautiful. Tinny keyboards, rapid-fire drum-beats and the odd guitar all sweeten the mix. Oberst first started detailing his desire and lack of fulfilment six years ago, as a 14-year-old prodigy in the band Commander Venus--and one can only imagine that a major cult will grow up around this tortured, mysterious, ex-Catholic. An extraordinary album. --Everett True END
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