Life is like a two-way mirror. There are times when you’re on one side and times when you’re looking through from the opposite one. Looking through on yourself, talking, breathing, carrying burdens you were not even aware you were carrying; almost like Bon Iver has done up until now, with their varied and insightful repertoire, from folk classics like For Emma, Forever Ago to the cathartic and experimental 22, A Million. There are many things these two records have in common, apart from a comma in the title: incredible sadness and melancholy. Did Justin Vernon of Bon Iver feel compelled to maintain the tortured Wisconsin-based hermit’s persona to keep his fanbase satisfied and less alone? As there is a lot of company in loneliness, and a bit less in happiness.
Nevertheless, the evolution and growth of Bon Iver as a musical project has been a privilege to witness. With the latest instalment i,i which came out almost six years ago, the shift in character and objective was clear, while still very tentative on the artist’s side. Perhaps the band wanted to gauge people’s reaction to a slightly less daunting sound. But on the so-awaited SABLE, fABLE, the American outfit takes the leap and finally finds some serenity. Or tries to, at least. Like Vernon said, this might as well be the last full-length project signed by Bon Iver, so it is clear that it wanted to be the Magnus opus, the final climax one needs to reach to be convinced life is indeed worth living.
This is what songs like ‘If Only I Could Wait’ featuring Danielle Haim from HAIM seek to achieve: that feeling of lightness, that heart-thumping euphoria. Almost reminiscent of religion, or at least what religion should represent, Vernon sings “I resemble other traits of the Lord”. Accompanied by ethereal strings and repetitive yet hypnotising synths, this track is definitely the highest point of the record, while still being track number seven.
Before this, the album grows slowly. A prolonged introduction, a reflective interlude made up by four tracks (the SABLE element of the album) takes the listener by the hand on this journey of self discovery, and Vernon & co care to reassure their fans that Bon Iver will always and forever be those Wisconsin-based hermits who live in cabins that everyone has come to love. But nothing changes if nothing changes, and the objective is made even clearer by the lyrical references throughout the first four songs. In particular, Vernon confesses that he is “afraid of changing” in ‘THINGS BEHIND THINGS BEHIND THINGS’, while he embarks on a deeply apologetic turn in ‘S P E Y S I D E’ as he admits that “nothing’s really happened like I thought it would”. The final epiphany comes in the last track of the introductory EP, ‘AWARDS SEASON’, where Bon Iver is finally ready to face it–whatever it is, love, hope, death, sex? – as Vernon chants “You know what is great? Nothing stays the same”.
The final synth keeps going on a loop until the first song from fABLE–‘Short Story’–begins. And what a start it is: it has an open structure, the heartbreaking strings and the autotuned (or Messina-ed) background vocals rally alongside Vernon while he reassures the listener and comes to the conclusion himself that “Time heals and then it repeats / You will never be complete”.
Compared to the fatalistic view the group’s lyrics had on previous projects, the fifth record has a more optimistic view on life. However, this doesn’t mean it doesn’t come without? its struggles. Vernon, though, was able to let resentment rest and find joy in the smallest things. Does he feel like he’s looking in from the outside of a two-way mirror too? He does explain that he gets “caught looking / in the mirror on the regular / And what I see there resembles some competitor”, and the “things behind things behind things” could be himself, his torment and his past. But now it’s time to look ahead, and not behind anymore.
‘Walk Home’ also portrays a state of comfort that comes with the realisation that everything is better when it’s done in two. The James Blake-esque recurring chorus breaks up each section, in which Vernon pleads with a lover and confesses his true feelings. There is a lot of this in SABLE fABLE, of earnestness. “Of this I am certain of / you was made for me / and my heart is feeling large” echoes in the song, once again highlighting the realisation one doesn’t need to be the loneliest person in the room to be noticed. Vernon radiates a newfound light, and he wishes for people to bask in it too.
It is a full-circle moment indeed, and Vernon uses all the tricks he learnt for 2017’s 22, A Million in tracks such as the gospel-like ‘Day One’, which features Dijon & Flock of Dimes. The piano loop then explodes in soulful guitar riffs during the chorus and bridge, walking along with the vocals that tell a life story: “Yes, you have always had your band / But you get sad enough because it’s all you seek”.
The penultimate track ‘There’s a Rhythm’ carries the same romanticism of ‘Beth / Rest’, from 2011’s self-titled album. There are also other references to Bon Iver, like when Vernon says “There are miles and miles to go / And I’ve been down this road before” – after wailing he was “Strayed above the highway aisle / … / but I could see for miles miles miles” in ‘Holocene’. Are they the same miles? He was witnessing the same view.
Like all good things, SABLE, fABLE must also come to an end. The final track is titled ‘Au Revoir’, signifying the end of Bon Iver as we know it, the rebirth of Justin Vernon and the enthusiasm for the future, while still carrying an unfathomable weight that is the one of loss. Deep loss flows through Bon Iver’s veins, but they were able to transform it into strength. Strength to move on, strength to reinvent themselves. This album is not comparable to previous works, simply because it doesn’t have the structure for it. It is a lighthearted sequence of tracks, all connected by a similar feeling: wistfulness. It was time for Vernon and his band to start asking the important questions, like he does in simple yet incurable romantic ‘From’: “Must I be so severe?” And the answer was, clearly and rightfully, no.
Going from writing songs like ‘Hey, Ma’ from the record i,i to ‘Everything is Peaceful Love’ signifies peace was achieved, at last. At last, the hermit from Wisconsin is not so sad anymore. And if his fans still are, well, maybe they should find their two-way mirror too and realise “every little thing is love”. As we are basking in this April morning light, alongside the light radiating from this welcoming record, we must realise indeed that love, alongside hope, is and will always be the most important thing.
Words by Silvia Pellegrino
Support The Indiependent
We’re trying to raise £200 a month to help cover our operational costs. This includes our ‘Writer of the Month’ awards, where we recognise the amazing work produced by our contributor team. If you’ve enjoyed reading our site, we’d really appreciate it if you could donate to The Indiependent. Whether you can give £1 or £10, you’d be making a huge difference to our small team.