Pitchfork

The kids at Post-Parlo are really on to something-- their pair-up of indie rock's best and brightest for split EPs, with each pressing capped at a mere 2,000 copies, has collectors everywhere running around like toddlers with their pants off. And they've really outdone themselves with their choice of packaging-- these envelope sleeves constructed from thick-pressed cotton paper spare no expense. They're even fit for a wedding invitation! Oh, and I nearly forgot to mention that, for this, the fourth and most highly anticipated installment of the series, they've secured Conor Oberst and Britt Daniel, the respective frontmen of indie rock major-leaguers Bright Eyes and Spoon. Not bad for a start-up.

On their website, Post-Parlo touts Oberst and Daniel as "two of the most gifted songwriters of the past decade," marketing this release as both a testament to and a test against the validity of that statement. The label isn't the first to make such a claim, but it's almost a dubious distinction, considering the dearth of quality songwriters these days. What's noteworthy about this release, however, is that Conor Oberst and Britt Daniel didn't simply submit two songs apiece to be packaged and peddled; these two heavy-hitters, best songwriters of the past decade or not, have actually collaborated on this outing.

To avoid confusion down the road, let's get our credits straight first: all tracks are performed by both Oberst and Daniel together. "Spent on Rainy Days" and "Let the Distance Bring Us Together" were co-writes; "You Get Yours" is a Daniel original; and "Southern State" was penned by Oberst. The songs were recorded in Oberst's basement, then mixed in Austin by Daniel, and engineered by Spoon drummer Jim Eno. And, by dint of the collaborative format, the four songs flow together seamlessly.

In accordance with Oberst's apparently innate songwriting formula, he opens "Spent on Rainy Days" with a regret ("I wish I saved up for rainy days cause they're the hardest to be dry"), and continues with, as usual, an account of the angst of separation. But the track, colored by these lite-pop motifs, is a winner, as Daniel's metallic guitar, alternating between sparse plucking and jagged strums, churns out a distorted riff that dashes beneath Oberst's strained pleas.

The difference between the two songwriters, however, becomes evident with Daniel's "You Get Yours." Written in a direct and terse style, both lyrically and musically, it's a sharp contrast to Oberst's slow, unfolding allegories. Daniel's often admitted to his rudimentary ability on guitar, but we all know that technical skill hasn't got a damn thing to do with talent, and here, his simple, banged-out riffs burst with ecstatic energy. "I won't kick you when you're down," he sings amidst the fray, "I'll pull you back on your feet/ When you get yours."

"Southern State" is naturally more downtempo, with Daniel's southwestern acoustic guitar and backup vocals offering welcome depth. Conor, meanwhile, whispers over distant drums and a gently plucked guitar that, at times, is barely audible. Occasionally, Oberst's overwrought poetry paints the song a bit trite, yet his eloquence as a storyteller gives it the conviction to avoid coming off contrived. It's a shame, though, that he continually insists on drawing from standard pop fare for his lyrical content; love, heartbreak and drinking oneself to death have no question been done to death at this point, and he's got a way with words that would lend itself well to other topics. His unending pursuit of true love only detracts from what might otherwise be a truly unique vision

The disc closes out with the simple, if highly compelling, co-write "Let the Distance Bring Us Together." Britt Daniel handles vocals here, and with a voice that wavers between the hum of a power saw and a slick, quiet falsetto, he softly slurs his words over a swollen tongue. The lyrics drag the song, unquestionably the highlight of the record, across the smooth sawdust floor of a Texas bar as Daniel subtly changes his pitch and tempo.

I don't know how Post-Parlo managed to convince these two to pair up for such a limited-run project, other than that labelhead Ben Dickey must be one smooth-talkin' son of a bitch-- it's hard enough to get two artists of this caliber on the phone at the same time, let alone to persuade them to co-write and record fresh material for an EP most fans will likely never have the privilege to hear. But whatever the case, the result of this tag-team match is worthy of pay-per-view, and well worth the difficulty of tracking down. I'm not quite ready to back up that "most gifted songwriters of the past decade" bit, but I will say this: if these two can crank out a batch of songs this affecting their first time out, they oughta get together more often.