Bright Eyes have always been one of those bands whose appeal balances somewhat upon an element of nostalgia. Those fans that survived their mid-teen years through listening to Fevers and Mirrors and Lifted were cemented as fans for life, branded with a molten love for the group – often verging on fanatical - and its leader, frontman and creative svengali, Conor Oberst. Being a Bright Eyes fan used to feel more like a club, maybe The Breakfast Club; a juvenile Blood Brothers pact between those who’d be often ridiculed by others outside their little niche. But as a 7000-strong crowd find their seats or somewhere with a view to stand, something seems to have changed.

As the rather intimidating arena begins to fill, it’s plain to see that Bright Eyes, over their 15 year history, have grown from the bedroom-listening band they once were to a fully-fledged live rock group able to fill such an expansive space as the Albert Hall not only of people but with their new sound and songs also. Much of this transformation can be seen as a result of the maturity of the band’s latest two albums- 2007’s mystic and dramatic Cassadaga and especially The People’s Key, released February past. While earlier outputs A Collection of Songs and Letting Off The Happiness embraced lo-fi recording techniques and home-made electronica, the more recent efforts have seen Oberst and co adopt a more repleting sound, wrapped in big-band arrangements and wall-of-sound production.

But first tonight Jenny & Johnny take to the stage: the eponymous duo comprising of Saddle Creek sweetheart and Rilo Kiley singer Jenny Lewis and her alt-folk boyfriend Johnathan Rice. The duet, originally introduced by Oberst himself, play a set comprised of love songs with a 50′s country feel, harking back to their near-namesakes Johnny Cash and June Carter mixed with the kitsche, slightly sickly nature of She and Him. With more of the crowd huddled outside in the smoking areas, queueing for the cloakrooms or occupying one of the Albert Hall’s many bars, the set largely goes unnoticed anyway. Gruff Rhys, however, is as impressive as ever- a performance spoiled only by technical and audio difficulties. The Super Furry Animals frontman chooses to feature tracks largely from new record Hotel Shampoo but is let down by a momentarily malfunctioning sound system which makes his normally vibrant songs fizzle rather than dazzle.

While a decade ago a Bright Eyes gig would have likely involved Oberst stood solitary and alone on dimly-lit stage, strumming ‘Something Vague’ on an acoustic guitar, the live act now consists of the group’s three permanent members (the latter two being Omaha’s own Mike Mogis and Nate Walcott) along with a full assortment of session musicians. The band’s light show is the first thing to hit you as the band walk on stage; comparable to that of any stadium band and which could probably give the likes of Kings of Leon, who also play tonight in a nearby wet Hyde Park, a real run for their production money.

As ‘Jejune Stars’ begins, the band’s new single, spotlights overlap and fill the massive stage, while swirling purple and blue lights reach all the way to the top of the terracotta dome roof that adorns the tip of the circluar venue. During ‘Approximate Sunlight’, Oberst even leaves his guitar aside and instead traipses around the stage with all the confidence of a frontman like Yoni Wolf rather than the tortured artist of his youth who wouldn’t have looked comfortable if he didn’t have any instrument to play with his hands. Halfway through the set, Oberst makes light of his new-found stage presence, introducing each member in jovial and satirical fashion, the way a big country singer might introduce his supergroup. “On keyboards, all the way from Washington D.C., let me hear it for Laura Burhenn, in the flesh!”, Oberst yells in his dedication to the Mynabirds keyboardist.

But as the band play their carefully arranged set, there seems to be a definite feeling of this transition and a reflection of the past and ponderance upon the future running throughout the gig and the group’s performance. In ‘Shell Games’, the band’s lead single from The People’s Key, Oberst judges all the past albums he has “laid at the arbiter’s feet”, while during ‘Hallie Salassie’ he sings: “All of our days are numbered, I take in some comfort in knowing the wave has crested, Knowing I don’t have to be an exception”

But Oberst’s apparent unease with his own legacy seems wholly unjust. Such is the band’s vast back-catalogue that the setlist spans seven whole albums and covers a whopping total of 20 songs. The middle part of the set shows the exacting depth and diversity of the group’s discography. ‘Old Soul Song’ exhibits Oberst’s political and poetic prowess that first caused writers to label him with the hindering and burdening tag of ‘the next Dylan’. ‘Lover I Don’t Have To Love’ and the suitably melodramatically-titled ‘The Calendar Hung Itself’ sees Oberst delve unashamedly into the most personal and perhaps most embarrassing moments of his past, songs that would perhaps seem cringeworthy to those hearing for the first time.

Such a vast choice of classic songs to be played means that the only complaint to be heard when the crowd assemble again to wait for bags and jackets is which songs were overlooked and what rare tracks or B-sides different queuing strangers would have liked to hear. Bright Eyes in fact play neither ‘Lua’ or ‘First Day of my Life’, undoubtedly the band’s most well-known hits. But when quality is this prolific in quantity, it hardly matters a slight.

The band return for a three-song encore to the delight of a crowd split between those silently mesmerised and those shouting, screaming and singing. Oberst stands alone, his figure blurred by a single red spotlight as he strums ‘Landlocked Blues’ and bemoans “I know I’m leaving but I don’t know where to” to 7000 muted onlookers. Burhenn interjects with soothing backing vocals and Walcott accompanies with a trumpet solo in what is a powerfully emotional rendition and perhaps the highlight of the whole performance. This is followed by the defiant call-to-arms that is ‘Road to Joy’, in which Oberst yelps “Let’s fuck it up boys, make some noise!” in almost complete unison with the entire audience.

Encore finale ‘One for Me, One for You’ brings the gig to a close and it’s hard not to get drawn into the band’s universal acceptance of things.The song finishes and the set ends with a recorded sampled dialogue that seems to reflect the band accepting their fate, knowing that the past is fixed and only they themselves can mold the future. The general impression surrounding this tour is that it’s to be their last, a final curtain call for the Bright Eyes moniker. If this proves to be so then tonight shows the band the most daring, confident and impressive they have ever been. Well, Oberst always did seem the type who’d go out with a bang.

Photos by Leah Pritchard