In my review of I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning I evidently failed to make it clear enough that the record is flavored with alt/country elements. Since I have no access to the inner workings of zboneman.com that lay so mysteriously beyond those red curtains - allow me to make amends here. It does - it absolutely totally really does. And before I blaze ahead and lose myself in this next critical summation, I hasten to point out that Bright Eyes companion release, Digital Ash in a Digital Urn is also laced with alt/country threads, but the bulk of the material that Conor Oberst has sewn together is electronica.

Regardless what label should be stitched inside the collar, before you try it this baby on for size, know that it's a whole different animal than Wide Awake. The opening track "Time Code" sounds more like Nine Inch Nails song than a melancholy, introspective kid from Nebraska - which is really about my only major complaint with Digital Ash - the rest of this album is damn good. As I mentioned in my Wide Awake review, I feel like I've been all wrong about Oberst in the past and am fast becoming a big fan.

Some of the more memorable tracks from Digital Urn include "Arc of Time" which smacks of ABBA's "Take a Chance On Me," which I found unusual and pretty cool. "Hit The Switch" is a great example of what I like to call "Emo-tronica." - kind of the same address on the package that Postal Service has been delivering. "Switch" is a downer of a track to be sure, but the following song "I Believe In Symmetry" perked me right back up again. When it's all said and done, however, the song that really juggles my genitals is "Light Pollution" The coolest song of it's kind since Dios' "Holy Diver."

It seems like only a week ago that I couldn't stand this guy's whiney ass and would roll my eyes in knowing distaste at the very mention of his fruity little name for himself - Bright Eyes. Even then I was big enough a man to admit that Oberst was a gifted and original young talent with plenty of potential, but I had it in my head that his shit was shaky and, at best, uneven and terribly overrated. Thus, it's more than an understatement to say that these fascinating twin releases have eclipsed even my most optimistic expectations. I'm just a big dumb monkey who needs a good beating. Damnit Conor, I was wrong - and I'll be front row at Coachella, cheering and genuflecting like a moon-eyed little bitch. Okay? We're even.