Icy reception for alt-folk exile
Bon Iver (or rather, the correct spelling ‘Bon Hiver’) literally translates from French as ‘good winter”, and it’s a rather appropriate name, considering the coldness of this album. Full of haunting vocals and lonely acoustic guitar, it has all the warmth of an ice-cube in the Arctic in its echoey production. Of course, its chilly appearance may be because it’s the work of one Justin Vernon, who wrote it whilst spending three months in ‘voluntary exile’ in Northeast Wisconsin, huntin’, fishin’, and chopping down trees. From the sounds of it, the lack of human contact seems to have brought out some very strange qualities in Mr Vernon. Musically, not personally (I’m sure…). Take a glance at the downright bizarre lyrics if you don’t believe me:
‘Only love is all maroon/gluey feathers on a flume…’, which is from odd opener ‘Flume’.
Syd Barrett would be very proud.
The appeal of this album, so says the blurb, is that because of the isolation from civilisation, this album is unique in that it is outside cultural influence. Which, as an idea, is nice, but obviously completely impossible unless the guy invented his own instruments, scales etc. I may just be pedantic.
But if I was going to be living in a log cabin in the middle of a very cold nowhere, I think this is the kind of music I’d write and listen to. However strange the lyrics get, along with the unusual multitracked vocals, they do seem to evoke perfectly the wildness and emptiness of their birthplace. ‘The Wolves (Act I and II)’ is a perfect example of simple acoustic guitar and choral voices which manages to sound meaningful and yet hollow at the same time, while it builds to its chaotic percussive end. Ethereal, spooky, and icily inviting.
This is such an unusual record, I’m not sure it’s actually comparable to anything I can think of. It’s a strange mixture of alt-folk, Americana, and pop that doesn’t sound like anything else out this year. And Vernon’s fragile falsetto is far more appealing than most attempts at that style of singing.
This is music taken stripped back, made by necessity, and it certainly evokes the Wisconsin forests where it was made. It’s a brilliant example of only using the bare essentials for an album, with not an iota of excess to be found. Which on one hand is appealing, but it doesn’t exactly make for easy listening. Especially as, while I write this, the sun is shining and May/June is beginning to look like an odd release date for this album.