Bright Eyes and Friends Shine at the Salt Shed

From the darkness of a faux Nebraskan night, white stage lights shone upon a goldfish-colored sunset backdrop and a shadow of a man looking up at the sky.

This was the setting of indie rock band Bright Eyes’ gig at the Salt Shed April 5. Fronted by lead vocalist and guitarist Conor Oberst, the Omaha-based band united various strains of alternative rock with local Nebraskan aesthetics, as well as calls for social action.

Fellow Omaha-based, post-hardcore band Cursive kicked off the show, as the band’s 14-song setlist made their appearance less like an opener and more a second-billed act.

A cello plunged Cursive’s set into cacophony, with asphyxiating guitars, hammering drums and hellish vocals following suit on “Bloodbather.”

The sounds of unsheathing swords, sputtering beats and bell-like dings polluted the air before being overshadowed by lead vocalist Tim Kasher’s screams on “Shallow Means, Deep Ends.”

The ensuing tracks spanned their entire 30-year discography, ranging from songs showcasing caged anger like “This House Alive” to groovier cuts like “Dark Star,” which featured egg shakers and tambourines.

“We’re hoping to scratch the itch of what you’re hoping to hear,” Kasher said between songs.

“Big Bang,” with its dissonant guitar riffs and blaring trumpets, drilled into the audience’s skulls. After a theatrical vocal delivery — chock-full of varying inflections and taunting tones — Kasher transitioned to a harrowing guitar solo, falling to his knees in front of the bell of the trumpet while shredding.

Cursive finished their set with “From the Hips,” with cellist Megan Siebe’s talents on full display. The frantic oscillations of strings combined with crushing guitars, pulsating drums and screamed vocals led to a triumphant end.

During the set change, the mural fell from the rafters, revealing a bigger backdrop reading “You Are Now At A Bright Eyes Concert” over a piano and interspersed music notes.

Two sets of keyboards flanked either side of the stage, while a drum kit rested behind guitars and basses. A vintage, wooden upright piano remained in the back corner.

As the lights above flickered, a flight-attendant-like announcement in Spanish introduced the band before being interrupted by the barrage of upbeat drumming and guitar chords of “Bells and Whistles.” Oberst skipped around the stage while playing an acoustic guitar, dancing between the red and white stage lights.

More laidback than the previous song, “El Capitan” slowly added layers of keyboards, drums and strings, with a golden hue and reminiscent lyrics evoking nostalgia. 

Twangy guitars and playful piano licks comprised “We Are Nowhere and It’s Now.” As they played, Oberst and his band closed their eyes as if in deep meditation, emphasizing the song’s sentiment of persisting through hard times.

On the bridge of “Soul Singer in a Session Band,” the brass notes of a trumpet duet wove around each other, accompanied by shouts from Oberst.

“For anyone thinking about vanishing, stay alive,” Oberst said after singing the moody “Method Acting.” 

The tonally lighter “Ban Jas Ader” and “First Day of My Life” both featured light keyboard plunking and plucky guitars. Bassist Alex Levine performed a banjo solo for the latter, prompting an audience sing-along, turning the huge, gutted warehouse into a small, intimate venue.

Flashing blues and pinks overtook the stage as hectic guitars and drums delved into sonic chaos on “Take It Easy (Love Nothing).”

Oberst then moved from center stage to the wooden piano in back, performing “Loose Leaves” and “Persona non grata.” The pair were aural antonyms, with the former invoking an old school jukebox tune, and the latter a rocky ballad ending in an emotional wail.

Rising from the piano to start “Mariana Trench,” Oberst gyrated around the stage, performing to both the audience and his band members.

Oberst then introduced Alynda Segarra from the folk band Hurray for the Riff Raff for a collection of duets. Unfortunately, their rendition of the love ballad “Lua” felt awkward, with the two barely interacting with one another. 

In the most passionate performance of the night, “Old Soul Song (for the New World Order)” emphasized protests for social change. The outro’s lyrics were almost entirely shouted, ending in an emancipatory yell.

Equally spacey and dreamy, “Happy Accident” and “Tiny Suicides” were both personifications of the Milky Way, complete with a swirl of purple, pink and blue lights. “Rainbow Overpass” then reintroduced energy to the room with a more head-bopping rhythm.

Closing out their main set with the fan favorite “One For You, One For Me,” Oberst sang as if it was his final message for humanity, running around the stage, crawling toward the audience and knocking down the microphone stand in passionate liberation. He ended the song on his knees, face to face with fans, reaching to them with outstretched arms.

Much to the fans’ pleasure, Bright Eyes performed a final batch of songs, one of which was an impassioned duet of Blondie’s “Dreaming,” joined by the returning Segarra.

Much of the concert was interspersed with commentary about the current political state of the U.S., especially that of that day’s nationwide “Hands Off” protests. 

“I’m sick of acting like it’s fucking normal, it’s not fucking normal,” Oberst said in between songs. “I don’t want to wake up in Elon Musk’s fascist wet dream. Fuck you, Elon.” 

Though long, Bright Eye’s night at the Salt Shed was a masterclass, not only in captivating an audience, but having fun while doing it.