If it seems bizarre that I got from Flume to here then I apologize, but it seemed like the ideal song to launch into a little reverie that is probably wholly unintelligible to anyone else. And that one's relationship with the music that he has helped cultivate stands independent from who he is as a person, just like how my interpretations of the music are separate from everyone else's. Segueing, I personally try not to buy into the cult that seems to surround Justin Vernon sometimes, because I've realized it's important to recognize that he has managed to create a sort of place-name-concept (Bon Iver) that perhaps transcends the void between the incredibly intimate and the universal collective. I had always selfishly assumed Bon Iver would remain relatively obscure, because it didn't seem possible or fair that music so intimate to me could be so widely listened to. I was a freshman in college when I realized how popular Bon Iver had become. Her parents had a house on Lake Superior in northern Minnesota, and the ruggedness of the outdoors with all the rock and snow and white birch and frozen lake - seeing that for the first added another dimension to Vernon's music. It was something of a sad joke when I was talking to someone on the phone I loved very much (but realized too late) told me that she had a hard time listening to the new Bon Iver album because reminded her of me too much, despite the fact I had only ever listened to 10 Deathbreast with her when I last saw her when I visited Colorado in early September.Īlso as a final tangental anecdote to my overly sentimental ramble, when I was seeing a girl in college who lived in Minneapolis, visiting the Midwest put the music o Bon Iver in such context. Every lover I've had ends up conflating Bon Iver with me, even if they knew it before they met me. Regardless of where I am in my life, the music seems to readjust with me and make itself relavant and salient. Since then, Justin Vernon's music, particularly Bon Iver, has always been something that I feel close to. To me all of those songs seemed caught up in love and love lost and it had such a mournful quality to it, but it seemed so sincere and authentic. It was one of the first nights I fell asleep listening to music all night long, and I would wake up and hear various parts of those songs, and it was among the first times I realized music could incept a longing or a nostalgia for something you never really had or knew. That night I downloaded Flume, Lump Sun, Blood Bank, Babys, and one more off For Emma that I can't recall. But he seemed genuinely enthused that I liked the music he was playing. It means good winter." I was the sort of student who I think frustrated my teacher somewhat I wasn't good at math, and I could be a little disruptive.
He said, "Bonnie Ver," I asked him to repeat himself, and he said, "It's French. I raised my hand and my teacher came over and I asked him who was playing. Anyway, the chorus of Flume came on and it had that quality that seems to reframe everything you're perceiving in a new light. My teacher always played music during tests, usually it was acoustic blues and what I had always assumed was called folk. I was sitting in high school geometry class one February in 2009, taking a test.
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