Bon Iver - SABLE, fABLE 

Musically, at least, Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon has spent the best part of two decades separating himself from the guy who holed up in a mountain cabin for the creation of the inarguably gorgeous ‘For Emma, Forever Ago’. In comparison, 2016’s ‘22, A Million’ presented the antithesis of the debut’s stripped back heartbreak, favouring arrhythmic electronics over the singer-songwriter affair that permeated both the mountain record, and its double self-titled follow-up depicting a similar wilderness on its cover. Almost six years ago, he released his most recent Bon Iver outing, one that struck a balance between the two but never quite reached as far back as the snowy isolation.

This album’s lead single ‘S P E Y S I D E’ - complete with jaunty formatting - quickly changed all that, its apologetic regret retuning to Justin’s delicate guitar picking and distinctive falsetto vocals. Its sparse sound matched the bleak lyrics, a seeming outcome of another round of self-enforced separation. It fronts ‘SABLE, fABLE’ alongside two other pared back reflections, the trio offering a false impression that Justin is back to his sombre musings. But, as ‘Short Story’ bridges to the gospel grandeur of ‘Everything Is Peaceful Love’, Bon Iver’s fifth studio album paints a different story.

The apology, regret and period of reconnection is brief and pained, and what follows soars. Less irregular than before, Justin’s redemption is soulful, almost spiritual in its delivery, not least in the Dijon and Flock of Dimes featuring ‘Day One’. “I don’t know who I am without you,” Justin begs over electronic pianos in his expression of unfaltering love. It pairs with the remorse of ‘S P E Y S I D E’ and the reconsideration of the Danielle Haim-featuring highlight ‘If Only I Could Wait’. But it’s the rising choral melody of ‘From’ that tells the tale best, with Justin separated from his love pressing for their return. “I can see where you’re coming from,” he offers as a visceral olive branch. It’s a huge leap forward from the introverted brooding of ‘For Emma…’, and a showcase of a man not just 20 years older, but wiser. The solemness lifts quickly, replaced by acceptance of his wrongdoing and an egoless push for forgiveness. Musically, as has come to be expected, he accompanies both brilliantly.