Barnes & Noble
Conor Oberst, the skinny, 22-year-old mastermind of Bright Eyes, has been making music since he was 14, and Lifted or the Story Is in the Soil... is the culmination of his many years of work. As emotionally ambitious as Neil Young's Tonight's the Night or Bruce Springsteen's Born to Run, the disc contains some of the most gripping pop songs released in 2002. Oberst draws on a cascade of sounds to flesh out his songs -- album credits list a drum corps, a choir, a "country choir," and a "drunk choir," as well as a cast of brass and string players -- so that his varied influences aren't all that obvious. Like a young Bob Dylan, Oberst is torn between the political and the personal, and that friction suits him. But he grew up in the '80s and '90s, so it isn't a shock that the catchy "Lover I Don't Have to Love" sounds like Echo & the Bunnymen singing Elvis Costello. The '80s influences continue with "Bowl of Oranges," which channels the Cure, and "Nothing Gets Crossed Out," which suggests Aztec Camera. The centerpiece of Lifted is "Don't Know When but a Day Is Gonna Come," an anthem only a youngster like Oberst could have written and recorded without giggling: "Is it true what they say about the Son of God? / Did he come to save / Did he come at all? / And if I dried his feet, with my dirty hair would he make me clean again?" With unblinking sincerity and innumerable musical gifts up his sleeve, he pulls it off, especially when the orchestra kicks in. But Oberst is no more obsessive about his music than are his fans, and it's easy to hear why the richly bejeweled Lifted stands as one of 2002's best albums. Sean Griffin
All Music Guide
When Bright Eyes brainchild Conor Oberst issued Lifted or The Story Is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground in August 2002, he was 22 years old. Critics were already calling him the "indie Bob Dylan", but the new millennium had seen a lot of those introverted, intelligent types (Ryan Adams, Beck). Bright Eyes, though, delivered a solid, intricately produced album without the majors' monotony. Immediately, one can sense Oberst's literate approach. His vocal curdle is abrasive yet warm. It's similar to the cooing of Robert Smith, but lush in heartache like Paul Westerberg, leaving the storybook of Lifted or The Story to earn massive praise. "Waste of Paint" is rough-cut with edgy acoustics, while "From a Balance Beam" glows with pop-like optimism. Chimes and simple drumming keep the story of personal insecurity and the fear of the unknown coming alive in a dreamy sort of way. Even when he's aching his way through the pop rumble of "Method Acting," Bright Eyes convincingly lures one into his eclectic musical world. Oberst obviously has the talent to support the hype. "Lover I Don't Have to Love" is a dark number with its Radiohead-like doom and gloom; however, the piano swirl of "A Bowl of Oranges" offers a brighter reflection. On Lifted or The Story Is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground, Bright Eyes has mixed badness with beauty for a sonic storybook that relates to everyone. It's slightly overwhelming at first, but one must allow a grace period to fully absorb the abstract desire behind this album. MacKenzie Wilson
Rolling Stone
We're flooded with new Dylans these days, most of them just hype jobs with acoustic guitars and fat press kits. But Conor Oberst, the... wunderkind behind Bright Eyes, has the goods.... If you're like most rock & roll fans, you've probably been starved for something like Bright Eyes. Rob Sheffield
Spin Magazine
By turning indie-folk into nonstop neurotic cabaret, [Conor] Oberst may have made the best album of his prodigious, prolific career. (8) Joe Hagan