Justin Vernon, the bearded, plaid shirt-wearing genius behind 2008’s For Emma, Forever Ago, has finally released the difficult second album of his band, Bon Iver.
The story, by now, is well known. Vernon, a young singer-songwriter from Oregon, headed for the woods and snow — and a cabin — in Wisconsin.
Here he made the bones of what was to become one of the top independent hit records of that year, and any other.
He surprised the world with a blast of raw emotion. Here was heartache and longing in mumbled compositions all sung in a pure shining falsetto. At first I tried not listening to the follow-up — the eponymously named Bon Iver (Just Music) — because I thought I would somehow burn through it too quickly.
ÂCircumstance and lyricism
There are few albums that have seared themselves into my consciousness through a combination of Âcircumstance and lyricism as Emma has done. It became an obsession, until it seemed as if the songs were smeared across my existence.
With the second album, it seems it’s still all about longing. The song Calgary is such a tale. In the video a young woman materialises on a bed in a subterranean cavern; she leaves, walking through mud, finds a ladder and emerges into a landscape at the same time as a young man, who has also climbed out of an underground chamber. The landscape is forbidding, but they take comfort from each other and ignite an object in their hands, setting fire to the water.
The album’s tracks are named after places and opens with Perth (the one in Ontario, not Australia). It has a hook with a simple string of guitar notes that carries through to the Âchorus “Still alive who you love”, which is echoed by a trumpet.
Vernon had more room, more musicians, more time and a well-equipped studio for Bon Iver. It has horns and more layered voices, which makes for a fuller, more ornate album. But I still long for his stripped-down sound. It’s no Emma, but nothing ever will be. We’ll take it.