"I wish I were in a tribe," says now 29-year-old Conor Oberst. "But I'm not...well, maybe the human tribe." For those part of the Oberst tribe, the wunderkind with a hollow voice and stolid eyes can do no wrong.

But his 21-song set with The Mystic Valley Band at the Echoplex Thursday night proves otherwise. Lacking the usual unripe passion of Bright Eyes shows, the alt-country band's performance was measured and textbook.

Treading in his cowboy boots to the guitar riffs in "Cabbage Town" and "Worldwide," Oberst half-jokingly sums things up, "I like music! No actually, I used to like music."

Rolling Stone's Best Songwriter of 2008 takes his first-thought's-best-thought approach to writing over the edge and allots little room for allusion. In "Nikorette," he sings, "My neighbor dreams big, his house is small. [He] says all he needs now is some capital." Formerly world-weary, Oberst's lyricism is just weary.

A rather wallflower record for Oberst, Outer South jostles watered-down 1970s country rock with lazy lyrics. Scattered instrumentals vying to tie the album in several directions make for a slipshod listening experience. Straying away from trying to elucidate the human condition, the record is a commentary on the societal norms of the Western world through the viewpoint of sedated kids traveling through the lush mountain town of Tepoztlán, Mexico.

Oberst is joined onstage of by keyboardist Nate Walcott, bassist Macey Taylor, drummer Jason Boesel with guitarists Taylor Hollingsworth and Nik Freitas, who each sings lead for a few songs.

Hollingsworth's giddy instrumentals in "Air Mattress" jog through the traveling youth's memories of expected benefits of unexpected nightly rest-stops. A songwriter in his own right, Hollingsworth sings The Magic Numbers-esque song with sprouting lips.

Freitas' matter-of-fact voice sinks south into the "Big Black Nothing" of ennui. Rusty guitar riffs plow through level tinges of bass as Freitas croons about nothing.

The show picks up when Oberst invites Jenny Lewis on stage for a crafty cover of Rilo Kiley's "Portions for Foxes." Lewis' smooth harmonies thaw out his wavering voice as fans dance to the tune's pop hooks.

Identifiable as Oberst's own Traveling Wilburys, The Mystic Valley Band is an experience meant more to bring joy to the musicians themselves than enjoyment to fans. Oberst's formerly half-empty liquor bottle of inspiration is half-full this time around as he and his ensemble reflect on village life as they slowly tumble into their 30s.