Conner Oberst, the lead singer and mastermind of Nebraska’s Bright Eyes, is short. I’m not sure exactly how short—maybe 5’5". In my fantasies I imagine him to be two feet tall. I like the idea of a little indie-rock icon who can sit on my lap and be sad, or perch on my shoulder at parties. I also like the idea of dressing him up like an organ-grinding monkey and using him to solicit spare change from hipsters on the streets of Williamsburg.

Despite his diminutive stature and "I’m more precious than you" vibe Oberst is a big indie-rock legend. Which is peculiar, given the fact that there’s nothing indie-inspired about Bright Eyes’ latest release, I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning. Brilliant wordsmithing and catchy pop hooks cast it more in the country-inspired pop tradition of Bob Dylan than in the shadow of Built to Spill. Which means music snobs will pretend to hate it, saying they preferred the early stuff. And the rest of us will kick the music snobs in their pretentious, pale shins, go home, get drunk on cheap wine, and be happily sad with our new Bright Eyes record.

In short, this album is brilliant; it rivals Beck’s Seachange as a perfect (and perfectly sad) pop album. If I hadn’t already downloaded it illegally online, I would trade my old skate deck, a pair of gloves, and my favorite yo-yo for it.