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EXTENDED PLAY 080: BRIGHT EYES | FIVE DICE, ALL THREES | REVIEW

Words by AJ Mahar

Twenty-six years after their debut album, American indie rockers, Bright Eyes are back with Five Dice, All Threes. Another example of the Conor Oberst led groups’ unique take on the roots genre.

Five Dice opens the album in trademark Bright Eyes fashion; ambient chatter interrupted by ominous samples, predominantly from the 1954 film Suddenly. Bells and Whistles breaks the building suspense joyously. The bright acoustic guitars and reflections of questionable decisions by people in power continue into El Captain, mariachi horns making for a joyous outro. The ’we’re not ok, but we’re rolling on’ feeling seeps through in the melancholic shuffle on Bas Jan Ader. 

Following a spirited drum roll intro, Tiny Suicides marks more than a tempo shift, more sounds of Suddenly echo hauntingly, with the mariachi horns returning to match the tone. The addition of Cat Power on All Threes takes the album from sombre to soulful. The electric piano and organ driven track providing the perfect backdrop for her smooth voice to blend perfectly with Oberst’s snarl.

Rainbow Overpass sees the band join up with Alex Orange Drink for a slice of Post-Punk Americana - thrashing, saturated drums at a furious tempo, dappled with buzzing synths and chimes. ‘I’m not shutting down, I’m shutting up’ is a piece of advice some should consider.

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The sombre plod of Hate lyrically sounds like a list made by a fourteen-year-old atheist – from Vishnu to David Koresh, they’re all on the hate list. The country balled backed rant is a contrast to the stereotypical moaning often associated with the genre. 

A period of plodding towards the end of the album is broken by the drama and soundscapes of Spun Out, a mid tempo shuffle with building chords, Judas Priest worthy harmonized guitars and surprisingly placed synths. Whining synths continue through to Trains Still Run on Time, giving way to bombastic orchestral sounds, bolstered by a catchy chorus.

Tin Solider Boy brings the album to a fitting close; a stoic balled pleased to be at the end of the line. Tired and haggard, but still celebrating.

While slightly jarring at times, in light of recent events in American politics, the album is hardly untimely. A bumpy and barrelling train of raw, honest Americana, much like the real thing.

LISTEN TO THE ALBUM BELOW









Brooklyn Gibbs