The albums that work their way under your skin are few and far between. The second CD by Justin Vernon, aka Bon Iver, is one of those earworm-laden offerings that leave you wanting for more and haunted by seductive phrases and catchy tunes. There is something irresistible and addictive about the symphonic pop that Vernon has crafted as the follow-up to his crystalline exploration of lost love, For Emma, Forever Ago.
While his first album – a demo he produced alone in a forest cabin – was a single-hued masterpiece of simplicity, Bon Iver is a tone poem of many colours, a segue of melancholy moods, transformed into something joyful by a rich and sophisticated orchestration that plays on textural contrasts between delicate plucked guitars, rippling banjo, frequent washes of pedal steel and the occasional and tasteful incursion of strings, saxes and brass. Vernon uses electronic sounds as well, exploiting the rich palette of synthetic possibilities with characteristic subtlety
The album’s warm and honeyed sweetness, just the safe side of syrupy, contributes to its appeal. Vernon doesn’t just know how to make the most of a hook, but writes memorable melodies. He has an unerring sense of drama, the sequence of tracks unfolding with a sense of inevitability that avoids predictable narrative. He’s a master of the climax, building waves of euphoria as uplifting as anything from the pop of the last 50 years.
Those months in the cabin mourning the loss of Emma helped Justin Vernon tap into his emotional world. It wasn’t obvious he would find his way forward from an album so thoroughly steeped in sadness. Success has a way of cramping an artist’s style or fixing it in a self-fulfilling loop. Bon Iver has moved on, but with a heart that is still firmly rooted in the sorrow of the world, and equipped with the creative skill to transcend it.
Overleaf: watch Bon Iver's video for "Holocene"
