There is something about listening to Bon Iver in the city that feels wrong. I need a chill in the air, the woods and the silence and tranquility that only being surrounded by trees can give me. “SABLE,” is frontman Justin Vernon’s first Bon Iver project since 2019. He’s better known for collaborations like “exile” with Taylor Swift and “Boys of Faith” with Zach Bryan, occasionally altering the industry with his emotional lyrics before retreating once again to the Midwest.
Sable is black — almost a near-darkness. A color so deep and endless that it draws your eyes in and hurts your head. Throughout the 12-minute EP, “SABLE,” tells a story of love, heartbreak and resilience. It unpacks years of darkness and self-introspection that could only come from an artist whose claim to fame has been his magnificently haunting lyrics, again and again.
“There have been times in my career where it has felt like I’m repeating a cycle of heartache,” Vernon said in an interview with The New Yorker. “I was getting a lot of positive feedback for being heartbroken. And I wondered, maybe I’m pressing the bruise. Maybe I’m unknowingly steering this ship into the rocks over and over again.”
It’s that sort of gut-wrenching realization that surrounds “SABLE,” where the narrator goes through a mental breakdown that’s been put off for years. The classic throaty serenade of Bon Iver weaves the story through acoustic guitar and electric echoes. On “AWARDS SEASON,” the final track, Vernon places himself in the winter. The production is minimalistic, often letting the instruments fade out so long they’re barely heard. Saxophone, organ, trumpet and piano infiltrate over the bridge, like the closing scene of a film. Vernon sings, “God, my heart / Why do things gotta change? / We were on our way / To be best to face / All that comes in gray / It’s so hard to explain.” There’s a narrative arc of someone who has tried, and is actively trying, only to fail and struggle with accepting this defeat.
Vernon refers to the creative process as repeatedly pressing on a metaphorical bruise. Bon Iver is known for devastating prose and an evocative whirlwind of sound, so much so that you expect him to be heartbroken at every turn. Change, and actively working himself away from this pattern of desolation, is a journey chronicled throughout the EP. On “THINGS BEHIND THINGS BEHIND THINGS,” he says, “I am afraid of changing.” In “AWARDS SEASON,” he expresses almost thankfully, “And you know what is great / Nothing stays the same,” then moments later, terrified, asks, “Why do things gotta change?” It presents the dichotomy that nothing stays the same — the bad will pass, and you will survive. Life will never be this exact moment with these people at this time ever again. It’s an anxiety that ruminates, flipping the switch at the worst possible time.
The guilt over his self-absorption highlights “S P E Y S I D E.” Vernon shot himself in the foot, not breaking for air after being suffocated by his own misery, and realizes how much of life he’s missed in the process. Speyside is a region of Scotland known for its whiskey, alluding to intoxication as he croons, “Nothing’s really happened like I thought it would / … / I can’t rest on no dynasty / Yeah, what is wrong with me?” It feels as though Vernon is watching his past mistakes roll out in front of him without being able to have control over them. The startling sobriety of registering a flaw comes roaring through in the silence at the end of the track. There are just 10 seconds for contemplation on what exactly held onto him so tightly.
The opening of “THINGS BEHIND THINGS BEHIND THINGS” reminds me of a chanted spell, something a witch would sing to the wind and scare innocent bypassers with. The lyrics “I would like the feeling / I would like the feeling / I would like the feeling gone” entrance you, bringing the narrative into a strange world caught between Vernon’s psyche and reality. He repeats most lyrics twice or even three times, as if he can’t quite get the words out the first time, but they are too important to miss. “There are things behind things behind things,” he sings, “And there are rings within rings within rings.” After cutting a tree, the rings inside show how old the tree is and how much history they endured.
Trauma is layered, and his trauma in particular seems to be built on top of each previous song that reached critical acclaim. Vernon compares this process to digging through a garage, combing through boxes of your childhood, trying to find something. It feels like he is searching for a reason or a rationale behind his self-destructive actions. The verses are dripping in self-hatred, with lyrics like “I get caught looking / In the mirror on the regular / What I see there resembles some competitor.” He runs himself ragged trying to outrun his fame and reputation, which in turn represents his past, still hurting despite the profits he’s made from it.
The 12 minutes of “SABLE,” are some of the most naked Vernon has ever been. It’s a stripped-back project that pulls Vernon back to his roots and the simpler days of music. It’s just him, his mind and a guitar — something that is haunting enough on its own.
Contact Julia Diorio at [email protected].
