Last Friday, Hollee and I met up with one of my very best friends in the world, Adrian, in Moab, Utah, to see Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band. This is significant in my life for several reasons.

First, let’s talk about Adrian. Adrian and I have been friends for a long time. Not as long as most people think, but a long time. Now that I think about it, I think this year marks our 20^th year as friends. Happy anniversary, buddy.

Adrian and I have gone to a lot of shows together, going back to the early 90s. And we’ve traveled to see shows together, meeting up in various places just to see a concert. It’s how we stay in touch. Conor Oberst in Moab, in a 250-seat theater, was not one we were going to miss. And even though our schedules are both tight and we pretty much only saw each other long enough to get dinner and see the show, we always know there’s a next one coming up around the bend.

Second, Hollee loves Conor Oberst. I’m convinced that if he asked her to jump on his bus with him, she’d be gone from my life forever. And I couldn’t blame her. He’s artistic and good looking and pretty fucking cool. My man-crush on Conor Oberst has provided us great topics of conversation and hours of listening in the car.

But who is Conor Oberst? Say his name to most people and you’ll be met with a blank stare and a “who?” Tell them that he used to be Bright Eyes, and they’ll just shrug their shoulders. So my break down of Conor Oberst’s music is most likely going to be lost by most readers. But here goes nothing…

Hollee and I saw Bright Eyes on the Cassadaga tour in 2007. It was an extremely artistic and high-tensioned set. Conor’s past Bright Eyes albums had been mostly about his frustration with the world around him. Cassadaga was a departure from that and he turned inward, exploring his own existence and spirituality. He was also a control freak, trying to take on way too much artistically. At one point during the encore, a microphone cord got caught on something and he threw the microphone down and walked off stage. That was it… the end.

I love Cassadaga, and it remains my favorite Bright Eyes album. However, when his first solo album came out, it was clear that he had cut the restraints that held him back and he just let go. Working with musicians who were as talented or more talented than he allowed him to release some of the control and focus on the big picture. Enter the Mystic Valley Band.

Hollee and I saw them in San Diego last October, two days after we got married. I was sure it would go down as the best concert of my life. Then came Moab.

In this small, intimate venue, literally leaning against the stage, we had a front-row view of the dynamics of the band. Stoned out of his mind for the first two songs, once he mellowed out a bit, Conor Oberst put on the most amazing show I have ever seen. Rarely do you see someone display the kind of emotion and passion on stage that Conor Oberst throws out there. You can see his pain in his face and feel his love in his music.

Plus, the guy can just rock. And with the band around him, including a baby-faced Taylor Hollingsworth who plays guitar like a 65-year-old blues veteran, it’s just an incredible experience.

So here’s my suggestion to you since you have probably never heard him. Go out and buy the albums. Listen to them. Let them become part of your life. Then give me a call. We’ll talk all night.

P.S. I should also add to this that the next night in Salt Lake City, the show had a completely different feel. It was outside just after a rain storm and the sunset was casting a strange light down through the clouds. We just chilled out on a blanked on the lawn and watched. It was still really good, just completely different.

[Photos Credits: Adrian and Hollee]