Concert reviews/photos: Conor Oberst @ Union Transfer

Die-hard Conor Oberst fans who have followed the singer-songwriter from his days as an emo idol through his folk-rock transition were not disappointed by his comprehensive setlist at Union Transfer last night. The show naturally began with a few songs from his new album, Upside Down Mountain, which had been released the day before, but less than 10 minutes in, he was playing crowd-pleasing Bright Eyes songs like "We Are Nowhere and It's Now," "Bowl of Oranges" and "Method Acting" that made the already frenzied crowd go wild. (They also could have been luxuriating in the spray of saliva their hero let fire when carefully enunciating lyrics.)

The L.A. folk-rock band Dawes backed Oberst and for the most part this was a good thing. Guitarist Taylor Goldsmith launched into impressive solos and keyboardist Tay Strathairn played a soulful organ that highlighted the bluesiness of Oberst's later records. But in their hands, "Hit the Switch," a classic Bright Eyes song with a flute accompaniment floating over somber lyrics, became a bland rock song that made the Bright Eyes fan in me cringe.

Midway through the set, the band encountered some sound issues, but the pause gave audience members a chance to express their undying affection as they shouted "I love you Conor" or "Conor, give me your seed." The show resumed and as Oberst sang, he mimed the lyrics, making his fingers walk when he crooned "some wander the wilderness" and pouring back an imaginary drink when got to the line about sipping cosmopolitans. This choreography is what an obsessed fan would do alone in her bedroom while listening to his albums, and there was something charming about Oberst acting it out on stage. He easily could have been condescending to his devotees, as some performers with a loyal following are, but he thanked them profusely and blew them kisses throughout.

When it came time for the last song, Oberst chose "Roosevelt Room," a relatively unfamiliar riot song criticizing American policy. ("You want me to pay my taxes / So you can propagate your lie / While there's barefoot dudes down in New Orleans / Looking like they're going to die.") The fans had been satiated, Oberst had them in the palm of his hand — it was time to tell them something about their government. Dawes, which had played an hour-and-a-half opening set before joining Oberst on stage, played with a rawness fueled by extended exhaustion, and as the song became ragged and the calamity intensified, Oberst jumped from an amp to the stage and the crowd stood there in awe.