About a month ago, I partook in my family reunion. The most telling moment of the day occurred during picture time. As my extended family tried their hardest to smile for the camera, a rather husky man snickered at the group. Now, I must admit that some of my relations leave volumes to be desired. However, this large jackass just so happened to be the photographer. When the masses became hostile, I exclaimed, "No problem! I'll bet he takes one hell of a picture." That turned out not to be the case. It was inexcusably the ugliest family picture in the history of families.

This brought me to an epiphany. But in case you're expecting a bold philosophical manifesto, let me forewarn you that this is elemental common sense: you cannot be a jackass and do shoddy work. Certainly, you have the right to be a jackass if you're brilliant. And of course, a modest imbecile doesn't pose a threat. But above all, you cannot be pretentious and make bad music. Sorry, this is just not allowed. If you have any questions regarding this matter, take a listen to Joan of Arc.

This brings me, in a roundabout kind of way, to Insound Tour Support Series, Vol. 12. Yes, you guessed it-- it isn't very good, but that doesn't stop it from coming off as unforgivably pompous. Bright Eyes' Connor Oberst weighs in (however lightly) with three bland acoustic ballads. I mean, I can almost enjoy moments of Oberst's Letting Off the Happiness, but none of these songs display any of that record's chaotic tendencies or melodic inclinations.

With his backing band somewhere in Nebraska, Oberst is left to fend for himself with only a guitar for support. All I hear is the lethargic crooning of a young man who could stand to be a little less emotive. It's somewhat excusable, though, since Oberst harbors all this supposed potential. Meanwhile, he hasn't written a single track worthy of this "one of the most important songwriters of our time" praise his label affords him.

Ambulance is Connor's roommate's band. How do I know that? Oberst revealed this information during an interlude between the two acts at a recent show. For some inexplicable reason, I expected more from his pals. Instead, Ambulance picks up where Oberst leaves off, offering a series of amateurish, comatose pop songs even a mother couldn't love. I respect the fact that anyone can make a lo-fi recording in his or her bedroom, but let's not try to pass it off as high art. Connor could shit better songs than this.

Don't get me wrong-- I like what Insound is doing. This kind of grassroots effort is refreshing and restores hope in the success of indie rock touring. But anything could be more vital than disc. And as the Archers of Loaf's Eric Bachmann once said, "The underground is overcrowded." Verdict: I can tolerate Bright Eyes since it's only three tracks, but Ambulance has to leave. Go home, guys.

-Adam Ohler