Justin Vernon, Bon Iver, strums his pearly axe
Bon Iver front man Justin Vernon gave a decidedly spiritual performance on September 19th at The Slowdown, Omaha’s cozy, hip music venue.
It might have been the first of many. His recent overnight concert at an LA cemetery—which included Wes Anderson, Buddhist monks and plenty of fog—probably also qualifies as religious.
Those familiar with his music might know what I’m talking about. His debut album “For Emma, Forever Ago” has become synonymous with introversion. This comes much to the credit of its widely-circulated mythical context: three winter months in monastic isolation at a cabin in Wisconsin, after breakups with both a woman and his former music partners. The story preludes the record’s simple but vulnerable themes: memories, loss and pain. The quiet and enclosed tone corresponds. Most of the musical energy comes from Vernon’s impassioned falsetto, reminiscent of soul vocalists. His acoustic accompaniment (a la Iron and Wine) gives a simple rhythm that echoes off the walls and ears. The listener might imagine himself in the cabin.
The performance in Omaha marked his first stop in what will be the last tour for this album. As such, I wondered if the show might have something unique in store.
At the time, I had never heard of Megafaun, the act opening for Bon Iver. The three-man cast is composed of Vernon’s ex-bandmates, and relevant to the personal narrative that Vernon would later sing on.
It was more than their ties that qualified them to introduce Bon Iver. They came on bold and boisterous—well suited to their reliance on multi-part harmonization (think Fleet Foxes). Their sounds were fresh, ranging from folky instruments (banjo, accordion) to electronic sampling. And their very light, spirited feel was balanced by interludes of frantic experimentation, which foreshadowed Vernon’s vulnerable tone.
And Vernon seemed as vulnerable as ever. It might have partly been due to the applauding sold out crowd. His thank-you’s were many, and I felt like I was consoling him and he was consoling me.
Maybe it was just the intimate setlist—he still has a relatively small catalogue of songs, and concert-goers were thrilled to hear their favorite sing-alongs, such as “Skinny Love,” “Blood Bank” and “Wolves.”
For me, the eclectic interludes made up the greatest part of the show. Though such portions appear in his recordings (“Lump Sum,” “Wolves” and the material on the new collaborative album, Volcano Choir), the effect was much greater live and intensified the loneliness of his melodies.
But the encore might have prompted this article more than anything else. On their return, Vernon chose to play “For Emma,” which encapsulates the theme of the entire record into a succinct narrative. It nicely summarized everything he had played before. To conclude the show, members of Bon Iver and Megafaun gathered on stage with numerous instruments and without microphones and began a chorus: “Come on ease your mind, oh, come on ease your worried mind.”
Seeing these formerly broken -up band members come together was a very redemptive moment. The words gave restoration to anyone who’s ever had their heart broken—by Vernon or by the world.
