At 26, Orson Welles was hailed Hollywood boy wonder following the release of his monumentally inventive first film Citizen Kane, a reputation he struggled to live up to for the rest of his life and career. At age 18, Conor Oberst, Independent label Saddle Creek's own boy wonder, released his first album as Bright Eyes, his floppy black side-bang helping the term emo mean what it was meant to mean: emotional. Because of his mopey, heart-felt, inquisitive lyrics he quickly gained the reputation of smart indie teen heart-throb. For some he was even the next Bob Dylan.

13 years later, Bright Eyes, now settled into shape as the trio Conor Oberst, Mike Mogis and Nathanial Walcott, release their 10th studio album, The People's Key, much anticipated after 2007's alt-country explosion, Cassadaga. Oberst has certainly grown up and matured, refining his lo-fi, deeply emotional, broken and battered, slightly disjointed teenage pop tunes.  His fans have grown up too, away from their own slightly disjointed teenage years. The original youthful surprise has gone. The question is - what's left?

Oberst, along with faithful side kick Mike Mogis, folk producer extraordinaire and vital component in the Bright Eyes pop formula, give us a superbly constructed, if at times slightly predictable, album: a tidy, polished, louder, slicker version of Oberst’s brilliant 18-year-old self. It goes without saying that whatever comes out of Mogis and Oberst's imagination will be inspiring, uplifting and hopeful; the kind of music you want to listen to on a long train journey home which makes you think about your life. It's the kind of music that you listen to for advice because Oberst always has a solution to life's problems and seems to know you inside out.

The People's Key is the first Bright Eyes release for about four years, but Oberst, still brimming with ideas and plans, has been busy recording three albums. There was a slightly strange, off-the rails solo album, one with the Mystic Valley Band and the debut album of the Monsters of Folk super group, featuring Oberst with Jim James from My Morning Jacket and M. Ward.

The People's Key is, inevitably, just as collaborative and has an exciting list of contributors including Matt Maginn (Cursive), Carla Azar (Autolux) and Clark Baechle (The Faint). It is an obsessive alternative folk fan’s dream. The barnyard sounds of steel guitar and violin that nearly moved Oberst into dangerous, unwanted territory on Cassadaga are gone, and Oberst returns to the synths and heavy beats that he was so renowned for as a fresh faced kid, now stylishly enhanced by Mogis.

Songs Triple Spiral and Shell Games are reminiscent of the uplifting, dreamy boy wonder Oberst, but tranquil, thoughtful songs like Ladder Song, Approximated Sun and One For You, One For Me, are another kind of older, perhaps more stable Oberst. We see the Oberst who is finding himself after four years lost in Mexico or Nebraska, accepting that he's getting older and learning how to deal with it. If Oberst's early stuff is out of the blue like Citizen Kane, then maybe The People's Key is his Touch of Evil: spectacular, beautifully assembled, assured and accomplished, definitely proving that there is still genius at play, that he does not feel overshadowed by his past, but without the irresistible naivety that drew us to him in the first place. He's still determined to be someone, to tell us what he feels, but stunning teenage experimental energy is naturally turning into a different kind of force.