The second full-length from Justin Vernon’s Bon Iver project, an eponymous 10-song record with strikingly detailed cover art, is perhaps the most anticipated non-commercial release of 2011, thanks in full to the universal love the Bon’s debut record, For Emma, For Ever Ago, saw upon its wide release in 2008. And while I’d like to tell you that the new album is a letdown (Lord knows the stopgap EP, Blood Bank, was), it’s not. Not even close. What Bon Iver is, is a grand record that boasts a sound far more complete than that of Emma. Resources, man, resources.
And sure, the album is impressively long-labored stuff, flaunting a big and bold full-band sound; but does it have any of the haunting magic of Emma, a record that breathed desperation and emotion like few have before it? Well, maybe not. That’s a rare, rare thing. By now we’re used to Vernon’s once-unique vocal style (many have already been influenced by it since 2008), so the shock of that appeal is also gone, replaced by incredibly deep compositions that feel at every moment fragile, mixing delicate nuance and grand ideas in a way similar to some of Low’s work, but to a much different effect.
Opener “Perth” is an instant winner, jumping out of the speakers in a very cinematic, emotional way. Starting simple – with floating voice and processed guitar – the song at first reminds of Emma before taking a soft turn towards pseudo-chamber pop, held together by marching drums and layer after layer of sweet, emotive melody. Vernon singes over his band’s epic arrangement in the way only he truly can, instantly reminding listeners why they were so excited in the first place. It’s a hell of a start to a record that plenty of people will – for reasons unknown to me – inevitably call a letdown. Yeah, the sound here is bummer and the departures aren’t anything too drastic, but isn’t knocking those attributes kind of like saying that Bon Iver reminds us of one of the best albums of the last decade, the irresistible Emma, if taken from a different perspective?
Ask Jeff Tweedy about his Loose Fur project and he’ll no doubt tell ya that growth learned from experimental side-work is never a bad thing. Similarly here, as each song progresses we begin to hear hints of one Vernon’s other primary projects, the prog-minded Volcano Choir. Like that record, the ideas on Bon Iver are big, the execution is tasteful and, for the most part, effective (not necessarily the case on the Volcano record). Slightly altering an incredibly winning formula – not a bad approach to to following up a hands-down classic. My only real worry with this album is that the songs are all too big, too full. Part of the original appeal of the Bons was the solidarity factor, not unlike that heard on Bruce Springsteen’s intimate classic, Nebraska. And while it’s perfectly fine for a band to change gears from album to album, Bon Iver as a whole is so full and deep that it often feels hard to pull the moments from the mud. Similar to The Arcade Fire’s second record, the great Neon Bible, Vernon really goes for it here, taking the time to build his already great sound into something more.
The artwork for Emma and Bon do the talking. The cover for Emma, a sole window, iced over, set the stage for the story of a man alone, cold and longing. The result was an affecting, relatable album whose emotional impact put fingerprints on the souls of its listeners. The new record is taken from the perspective of outside the cabin, far off, detailing the surroundings in a beautiful way – deeper yet brighter. We’re still in the same neighborhood here, but the attitude – and results – are different. The question becomes, is the appeal different? Will a fan of Emma find the same amount of emotion in the record, the same connection? I’d argue that yes, as long as you get to know the depths of these gently giant compositions, you’ll enjoy the record very much, as it’s a truly great batch of songs. But no, Bon Iver will not stand as the major classic Emma was. But that’s okay, leaving the hideout is good for you.
90/100
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