Conor Oberst sits in a dive bar, pulling on Winston Lights and throwing back intermittent gulps from a beer bottle. This isn’t the downtown New York- or Los Angeles-variety “dive” with the beautiful people and the perfectly curated juke box. This is the suburban Omaha sort, where a handful of pear-shaped, geriatric regulars sit drinking, solo, at two in the afternoon, mumbling conversations to themselves. The juke box plays only AC/DC. Oberst, better-known as Bright Eyes, is here — away from his handlers, bandmates and friends that dot the frigid Omaha landscape — to confront the perception, more or less,… Read more »