Yahoo! Music Album Review

Released on 19/05/08
Label: 4AD

It's a rare and beautiful thing to uncover a record that entrances you from the first note until the last dies away. Such is the incandescent quality of Bon Iver's near flawless debut. Need more? How about a cracking back story too? Following break-ups with his band, girlfriend and general disillusionment, auteur Justin Vernon bolted to the snowy isolation of a log cabin in Wisconsin. Ensconced for four months, he busied himself initially with simple wood bound chores. Slowly coming to terms with his lot, he wired up a handful of mics, some antiquated processors and set about the creation of these spooked, redemptive ballads.

Arguably, no album in recent years has so powerfully evoked such a distinct sense of time and place. Isolation and the feel of an artist utterly alone with his work and thoughts course through every track. Cloaking the entire record are Vernon's exquisite, hymnal vocals; artfully layered as if a choir of his own construction will counter the solitude. Elsewhere, off-mic shuffling, as he traverses the room to attend to an instrument or maybe put the kettle on, is homely rather than distracting. And the close vocal styling, like it's all being whispered into your very ear, give these recordings a spine-tingling intimacy.

Obvious reference points are the tremulous, upper registers of Anthony Hegarty or Jeff Buckley, but there are shades of gospel, TV On The Radio's Tunde Adebimpe, even Nina Simone; Vernon regularly swooping from soulful, afro-esque falsetto to an oakey baritone within a couple of lines. The predominantly acoustic accompaniments recall the ghostly folk of Vetiver or Iron & Wine, whilst the blanketed production aesthetic and hushed drones deep in the mix echo the desolate expanse of uninhabited land beyond the cabin.

Flecks of electronica and sparse brushed percussion evoke the soft crunch of snow underfoot and the rustling leaves of the adjacent forest and Vernon's experience as a sometime producer is put to good use to maintain interest despite his limited palette: "Lump Sum"'s gentle chug rises from a sepulchral haze, "The Wolves Act 1" climaxes with the sound of a jazz drum kit being tipped down the stairs and "Blindsided" summons the spirit of Brian Eno by way of some lush reverb treatments.

With standards so high, the odd dip in quality is inevitable. Cursory instrumental "Team" - tacked on the end of "Creature Fear" - whilst clearly positioned as a strategic change in tone, will always feel a superfluous sketch. Similarly, the parping horns and slightly stiff swing of "For Emma" are at odds with the pared down run-in. But these are minor quibbles. All told "For Emma, Forever Ago" is a stunning achievement. Subtle yet undeniably powerful, richly atmospheric and achingly heartfelt. It's nothing short of a modern classic.

    by Jim Brackpool