Bon Iver | 12.15 & 12.10

Words & Images by: Jake Krolick

Bon Iver :: 12.15.08 :: The Trocadero :: Philadelphia, PA

Bon Iver :: 12.15 :: Philly

We live in uncertain and tumultuous times. Life’s daily struggles are getting more serious as economic blows are met with growing anxiety. A bittersweet holiday season has dug its claws into the country as friends around us are losing their jobs. That knowledge can weigh down one’s thoughts with an unsettling touch of gloom. It is during these moments that we turn to music as a form of stability and comfort, reminding us that we are not traveling life’s crooked path alone. I’ve always found truth in the candid simplicity of folk songs. From Richie Havens to Woody Guthrie, folk artists touch on something empathetic, which allows a bit of insight to spill onto one’s own moments of personal strife. Their acts of expression offer a personal mechanism to dissect the darker moments of your existence. So, when Kristian Matsson, performing under the moniker of The Tallest Man on Earth, and indie folk rock singer Justin Vernon aka Bon Iver stopped in Philadelphia, our sold-out crowd welcomed them with open arms. We were ready for an evening of reflection through some hard-earned and honest music.

Matsson may be a Swede, but he sang folk music on par with any dusty American performer. Matsson’s understanding of the Middle-American accent was uncanny. His wailing voice landed somewhere between Merle Haggard and a youthful Bob Dylan. As he performed “The Gardner,” off Shallow Grave, his vocals crackled with electric-wound liveliness that beckoned the crowd to sing-a-long. Matsson’s performance was diverting and enjoyable. Surrounded by a vocal crowd on a second floor balcony, we found his songs to be pleasing. Whether you could clearly hear what he was singing or just picking up the gravity of his expressions, his music impressed the packed venue.

After a quick set break, out emerged Justin Vernon, the man who charmed the indie world by sharing his deeply personal three months of solitude through his debut record, For Emma, Forever Ago. He paused on The Trocadero stage to reflect whole-heartily on those wintery moments. We watched with baited breath as he walked us through most of his acclaimed album. In between the heart wrench, we discovered a warmth within the new songs as Vernon unveiled tracks from his upcoming Blood Bank EP due in January.

Bon Iver :: 12.15 :: Philly

The cloud of unsettling doubt that hovered about my head slowly dissipated three songs into the set as Vernon strummed out the drowsy beginning to “Skinny Love” on his steel guitar. The red ember glow on Vernon’s instrument held the shadows at bay while our new found appreciation for an album and an artist emerged. “Skinny Love’s” haunting melody streamed out into the audience, caressing the crowd’s ears like fine oriental silk. Vernon’s voice acted like the band’s fifth member as it expressed emotions far more significant than the words he sang. Vernon let his hand fall across the strings in a cadenced manner. The strings echoed vibrations and let faint high-pitched tones escape between the true notes. Around Vernon sat his bandmates, who banged on the percussion and drums. Even the front rail joined in the rhythm section as they beat along with the drummers. The thumps and crashes added a powerful build and finale to the crowd favorite. Throughout the evening the band offered well-placed accents on Vernon’s beloved songs. As a band, they are just beginning to gain a comfort level that should soon allow them to improvise moments instead of simply taking cues.

With new songs came new feelings of warmth and contentment that flowed through Vernon’s pronounced keyboard work during “Babys.” The uplifting moment stayed through his cleaver cover of The Outfield‘s “Your Love,” whose potential ’80s nostalgia was transformed by Vernon’s tender voice and aura of hope. Vernon urged us to sing along during the second act of “Wolves (Act 1 and Act 2).” In the bar upstairs, Flyers forward Scottie Upshall mouthed along to Vernon’s tender opening. Then, as the crowd started chanting the refrain – “What might have been lost” – the song morphed into something else entirely. The swell of 800 voices grew into a choir creating a poignant experience. The drums came on ferocious and fast, the guitars became harsh but pleasing, and the sound just kept building and building until it was something grander than we had expected. This was a clear highlight of the evening, a moment inside the music that linked us together.

Vernon plucked an electric guitar from his quiver for a touching rendition of “Re: Stacks.” The electric version sounded a little like something off of Van Morrison‘s Astral Weeks. It sent shivers down spines and offered up the evening’s only taste of Vernon solo. No one dared to move, let alone whisper as Vernon let each syllable roll melodically off his tongue. The guitar played second fiddle to his vocals as Vernon captivated the crowd.

The evening ended on an upswing with a spirited, rocking version of “For Emma.” Bon Iver’s songs left the feeling that no man is an island and that an existence forging ahead alone in a bitter landscape was not the answer. Whether you’re from Eau Claire, Wisconsin or Philadelphia, PA, Vernon’s performances let you discover that salvation lies in our ability to bond with others and share our sadness and joy together. It is this coming together through music that allows us to cope and pull through the darkness of a good winter or a bad economy.

12.15.08 :: The Trocadero :: Philadelphia, PA
Blood Bank, Lump Sum, Skinny Love, Babys, Your Love (The Outfield Cover), Beach Babys, The Wolves, Re: Stacks, Flume, For Emma

Continue reading for coverage of Bon Iver in New York…

Words & Images by: Nell Alk

Bon Iver :: 12.10.08 :: Town Hall :: New York, NY

Bon Iver :: 12.10 :: NYC

Sometimes a show – even a good show – is just a show. We arrive. We enjoy. We depart. Not so with Wisconsin-based singer-songwriter Justin Vernon. Pardon my romanticizing, but his neo-soul-folk band known as Bon Iver (pronounced “bohn eevair,” French for “good winter” and intentionally spelled incorrectly) bypasses talented, bordering on exceptional. Wait a second. Who am I kidding? They’re superb. The live experience further confirms this fact. As it is, Vernon’s debut album as Bon Iver, For Emma, Forever Ago (independent release in late 2007; label re-release in early 2008), moves listeners with its somber instrumentals, sober subject matter, emotive vocals and dulcet delivery. The venue version catapults an already remarkable work of art into a stunning, albeit transient (and thus that much more special) masterpiece to behold.

If you’ve not yet had the privilege of hearing this threesome (Vernon with multi-instrumentalists Mike Noyce and Sean Carey) live, you’re not alone. Anyone who hasn’t seen them onstage together is missing something memorable. I was among that group of Bon Iver fans, playing his songs sporadically on my iPod but I’d never caught them up close until this show. Blown away is an understatement. While their three appearances in New York City (two in Manhattan at Town Hall and one at Brooklyn’s Music Hall Of Williamsburg) were sold out long ago, I couldn’t help but kick myself a little bit for failing to secure entry for a second or third dose. Their chemistry touched me that much, and I wasn’t alone. Granted, Vernon’s verbal manifestation of a bleeding heart isn’t for everyone, but there are few who would deny his musical and lyrical gifts.

Sharing the stage with the trio was Matt McCaughan, of the North Carolina-based indie rock band Portastatic. All four men have facility with myriad instruments – McCaughan drummed, strummed and sang; Noyce strummed and sang; Carey drummed, sang and worked the keys; and Vernon made magic, leading the pack with his singing, strumming and keyboarding. A fifth member of this currently touring dream team made a cameo early on, but he swiftly disappeared before I could formulate a meaningful impression. Observing in awe from the seventh row of this elegant, dimly lit theater, the scene seemed surreal, very MTV Unplugged, but better. With eleven guitars, two drum kits, two keyboards, four mics, samplers and four vocal forces to be reckoned with, the only thing missing from this image were the oriental rugs. And those are more or less superfluous accessories, right?

Bon Iver :: 12.10 :: NYC

Bon Iver opened with a song neither from For Emma nor their forthcoming EP, Blood Bank, entitled “Words,” which is apt because the boys sang a cappella. Seamlessly, this transitioned into “Flume,” the first track on For Emma. While the recorded version guest stars a female voice, the boys more than made do. With Vernon’s heavenly high voice, it hardly mattered. It was then that I became acquainted with Vernon’s facial expressions. Eyes almost always shut, it’s as though he retreats inside his own head, every line carefully stored behind his eyelids and released out of his mouth, perfectly cued. He winces and grimaces, his angst-ridden contortions not only a visual byproduct of his audible delivery but also perhaps indicative of the circumstances under which he composed For Emma. For those who don’t know, having loved and lost, Vernon grappled with the emotional repercussions of a bad breakup by escaping for three months to a cabin in the woods of Northern Wisconsin.

Different from his concentrated countenance, his body language and attire were relaxed. Dressed in baggy brown pants, sneakers and a hoodie zipped up over a loose fitting button-down, Vernon seemed at ease. Locks astray and sporting a beard, Vernon looked no more than a couple layers away from mountain lumberjack. On top of this, he maintained an entertaining rapport with the audience, consistently making us laugh. Breaking the ice between ballads, he single-handedly exemplified the fact that, despite the melancholy tone of their music, Bon Iver doesn’t take themselves too seriously. Their overall performance style is spared of affectation and self-aggrandizement. Together they are endearingly humble, to the point you want to hug and high-five every one of them.

Standout tracks this evening included “Skinny Love,” “Creature Fear” and “Wolves.” Arguably his most conventionally popular song, “Skinny Love” was performed with both grace and gusto. The song started off faint with Vernon singing softly, playing an antique vintage guitar. On record the force of this song springs forth mostly from Vernon’s suddenly louder vocals and aggressive strumming, but the live version featured an even more satisfying release to the build-up as Noyce, Carey and McCaughan drummed in unison, passionately punctuating Vernon’s vociferous vocals with a dramatic beat that resonated throughout the theater. “Creature Fear” shared this same trait, oscillating from melodic to fervent with its seemingly endless and repetitive percussion. Focusing on Carey here, the vision was dizzying. I have bottomless respect for him and his ability to maintain such monotonous motion. I would have ditched my sticks and thrown my arms up in defeat, the song too trying for my wrists’ patience.

Before performing an intoxicating solo version of “Re: Stacks,” Vernon announced to the crowd, in a humorous manner, that he’s “not into encores.” Perfectly aligned with Vernon’s down-to-earth attitude, his explanation had everyone nodding in agreement. We understood, smiling, except for one inebriated man who proceeded to interrupt, shouting, “New York has had a shit show. Bon Iver makes good music!” Vernon conceded, and the room bustled with laughter in concurrence.

Bon Iver :: 12.10 :: NYC

Following his solo effort, the boys returned to the stage. Vernon lovingly insisted that everyone sing along to “The Wolves.” He said the chorus, “What might have been lost,” would be best appreciated if we all joined in. “If they’re not singing along, I give you permission to kick the person next to you in the ribs,” joked Vernon. I prepared to be maimed by my date, as I am not one for sing-a-longs, regardless of potential pain. “I’ll see you on the other side,” Vernon said before beginning. The outcome was magnificent, our voices reverberating off the walls and ceiling for a poignant combination.

Bon Iver shared three of four songs (“Beach Baby,” “Blood Bank” and “Babys”) from Blood Bank, each of which proved delightful, but beyond that simple endorsement I’d need more exposure. I’m looking forward to the January 20 release date. Despite skipping For Emma‘s “Blindsided,” Vernon eventually said with a shrug, “We’ve run out of stuff.” Following this, the four men who made our night (week? month?) gathered at the center of the stage, corralled around one microphone. Vernon plucked an un-amplified guitar, sans strap, and introduced what was to be the icing on an already decadent cake – a cover of Tennessee-based folk-alt-rock singer-songwriter Sarah Siskind‘s “Lovin’s for Fools.” No words do their four-part harmony justice. I was floored, my eyes moist and my heart aflutter. I was so taken aback by its beauty I had difficulty turning away from the magnificence before me. But I did. And I realized that everyone else within earshot shared the exact same warmly stunned expression.

I’ve been covering the New York City music scene for nearly a year now and, over the course of the past twelve months, have seen more shows than I can begin to count. Bon Iver’s performance outshined them all. I am confident in proclaiming Justin Vernon is this year’s most significant new musical contributor, astounding with his modest and unadorned beauty. From melody to meaning, this brilliant Midwest poet is nothing if not luminescent.

12.10.08 :: Town Hall :: New York, NY
Words, Flume, Lump Sum, For Emma, Beach Baby, Blood Bank, Skinny Love, Creature Fear, Re: Stacks, Wolves, Babys, Lovin’s For Fools

Continue reading for more pics of Bon Iver…

Images by: Jake Krolick

12.15.08 :: The Trocadero :: Philadelphia, PA