95 North. . . The Newspaper

Better Oblivion Community Center? The phrase itself purports that we make a collective attempt to improve on our, well, failure. It's sort of what we run into as we scroll through Instagram, as corporations feed us the anecdotes to the anxieties they create, and the market is awarding them. The better the oblivion, the bigger the profits, the deeper the oblivion-inducing claws sink into our very humanness. At least that's the idea that two s ongwriting aces, Conor Oberest and Phoebe Bridgers, came up with- releasing a concept album of sorts detailing the feelings that fill each step between us and the outside world- a political parade with confetti- a small black box we live through.  Heavy political notions and societal critiques aside, if you listen to any song off of Better Oblivion Community Center, let it be "Dylan Thomas". Named after the famed early 20th century Welsh poet, "Dylan Thomas" greets us with a jingly, bright, energetic...

Phoebe Bridgers had been circling around the L.A singer-songwriter scene for a few years. It was inevitable that her talent would see her through- with an ear for melody and class A writing skills, Bridgers steadily attracted the attention of many- and unfortunately, that of Ryan Adams. Adams, who was revealed by the New York Times to be at best, a manipulative, misogynistic, and coercive force (see the article  here ) that dangled record deals and studio time for talented young women like Bridgers. In this context, "Motion Sickness" is a song that recounts an ill-fated, manipulative relationship with an older man. A few steady sweeps of an electric guitar greet us at the start of the song, sending the whole enterprise in motion, down the sidewalk, down memory lane, down a reflective L.A. street lit with regret, anger, and just enough catharsis to roll everything downhill.