Going back to the basics is one of the most comforting things one can do in life, like finishing off your ambitious, new six-course crocodile buffet with a side of fries. Today, that side of fries is folk band Bon Iver, formed in 2006 by lead singer Justin Vernon.
I, too, was surprised to learn that Bon Iver is, in fact, a band, not just Vernon. Formed in 2006, but not releasing their debut “For Emma, Forever Ago” until 2007 (and getting a wide release in 2008), Bon Iver began on the backbone of some of the most traditional–and gorgeous–folk songs I’d ever heard. The songs were very standard, even when elevated by Vernon’s angelic voice. Seeing this, they decided it would not stand.
Over the course of the 2010s, they would get more and more experimental with every new release until their 2019 album “I, I” leaned full force into glitch-inspired folktronica.
All this builds up to their newest–and first album in about six years–“Sable, Fable.” Despite the many years of ruthless experimentation before it, this album is far more subdued. It’s technically split into two discs, with the first disc being the three-track extended play “Sable,” which is a full-on standard folk EP.
Although standard at their core, songs like “Things Behind Things Behind Things” and “S P E Y S I D E” are luscious, rich folk tracks, with Vernon’s ever-transcendent voice adding a layer of rich power. Even on this more easygoing side of the album, the EP still ends with “Awards Season,” which strips things back as far as they can go– barely a backing beat, aside from some distant whistling and bells. The track is a cappella, further showing Vernon’s range as his voice effortlessly creates new melodies without instruments.
The album’s second half–presumably the “Fable” half–is more in line with previous Bon Iver projects, focusing on electronic and artificial instrumentation in the vein of “22 A Million” and “I, I.”. While those two albums basked in glitchy, unclear production, making themselves into experimental collages, “Sable, Fable” sands down into a smoother and more focused product, firmly planting itself into a more palatable “Art Pop” sound.
The automated drum machine of “Everything Is Peaceful Love” kicks off the second half well, with plonky main synths, funky synthetic horns, and some of Vernon’s most soulful singing of his career. Everything sounds somewhat artificial–and a bit samey–to the point where I almost mistook the drum beats in “Walk Home” and “From” as identical. Yet somehow, the album makes it work in its favor, creating a pretty distinct sound while still incorporating various experimental touches throughout.
Some of my favorite showcases of odd instrumental touches during the album are the harsh, punchy vocal samples in “Day One” and the way the instrumental in “I’ll Be There” randomly cuts out, to sell the impact of the track and Vernon’s singing.
The sparse guest vocals throughout also help with selling the tracks, from the beautiful gospel vocals of “Day One” to the duet between Vernon and Danielle Haim on “If Only I Could Wait.” On the surface, these choices might seem like the band is playing it safe, aiming for something easier on the ears, but in practice, they only enhance the album’s beauty. They bring a sense of community to a band that often feels so isolated.
I was skeptical of “Sable, Fable” at first; the idea of it sounded far too safe for a band known for taking risks. But after a few proper listens, I’ve come to appreciate it as another gorgeous step forward for such an interesting band.
Glitch on, Vernon.
Author
Hello there stranger, this is Kate Megathlin, writer for weekly music reviews for the Seattle Collegian, here to assert how much more important her opinions are than yours. She is a Seattle Central student with a major love of music and music culture, and every week she’ll try to deliver reviews of new albums coming out, if you want to recommend albums for her to review, email her at Kate.Megathlin@seattlecollegian.com.
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