Album review: Bon Iver's "22, a Million"

If you’re up for spending the next few minutes of your life listening to the feelings of an emotional, nostalgic 20-year-old who gets teary-eyed over music pretty frequently and can’t stop listening to Bon Iver’s new album, then please do both of us a favor and continue reading.

"22, A Million," which was released Sept. 30, is the new experimental and edgy product of Justin Vernon, the singer and creator of Bon Iver, arguably one of the most mysterious artists active today. 

He doesn’t live in the spotlight. He writes and records much of his music in a wooden cabin in Wisconsin. He’s even thought about moving away from his already-establish Bon Iver identity a few times.

I’ve never done an album review, mostly because I’ve just never felt compelled to. Something is different this time. This time, I needed to tell someone else about this little wonder I’ve discovered. I needed to share this feeling with someone.

And I’ve decided that you, my lovely readers of the DTH, should be that person.

What is it about music that brings out what we can’t explain through speaking? You can think about a song and play it in your head and it still won’t elicit the same raw emotion as when you hear it and you submerse your heart into its world. I can sit here and write this article thousands of times and it still will not do the album justice.

I was introduced to Bon Iver about a year and a half ago.

"For Emma, Forever Ago" was the folksy-heartbreak album that began Bon Iver. The next project, "Bon Iver," was released five years ago and had a less chilling, more full-bodied vibe. 

Now, Vernon has created something completely different. At many times, it has a "Yeezus" vibe — yes, that’s right, that’s not a typo — with liberal use of Auto-Tune and various types of artificial sound through an OP-1 device. 

This is no rustic folk album, folks.

The album begins with “ 22 (OVER S∞∞N),” an almost extra-terrestrial creation with balances of repetitive background vibrations, an OP-1 voice synthesizer, gospel music samples and Vernon’s signature falsetto. 

The album is certainly one that you don’t skip around from track to track — the structural integrity is completely compromised by failing to listen from beginning to end. The album tells a story, with each song interconnected through ambient, continuous sounds that pull you into the next adventure. Despite the fact that the tracks are intertwined, each has its own theme and distinct personality.

An almost grunge-like “10 d E A T h b R E a s T ⊠ ⊠” feels like a cross between the primitive and the modern, complete with a consistent drum beat, an almost screeching sound in the background and an ascending saxophone choir as the song progresses. 

The instrument-heavy music cuts off as “715 – CRΣΣKS” comes on, an a cappella track that loads on the Auto-Tune without any falsetto to convey Vernon's passion more fervently than in other songs on the album. 

The album continues as such — a conglomeration of personalities that all fit together perfectly because they all contain an unmistakable sense of Justin Vernon. One of the most popular Bon Iver songs is “8 (circle),” which is, fittingly enough, the eighth track on the album. Reminiscent of “Beth/Rest” from "Bon Iver," this track finds its groove in the ambient background audio with a mellow vibe, verging on an '80s sound. 

Among the standout tracks on the album are “33 ‘GOD’,” “29 #Strafford APTS,” and “666 ʇ” which all leave the listener curious for more, yet satisfied — which might be the beauty in what Vernon does. The mystery of his art form is a deep subject open to exploration and interpretation from the audience. Yet the music itself — the open chords, the authenticity of Vernon’s artistry and the nuances of each song — is oh-so satisfying. 

Despite the fact that this style is a new frontier for what Bon Iver fans are used to, there is something unquestionably “Justin Vernon” about it. His lyrics are undeniably cryptic, but they all seem to ask the unanswerable questions of life. Perhaps being cryptic is the most poignant way to illustrate this point. Life itself is cryptic, and no one has all of the answers or the reasons for why anything happens. Why should an artist questioning all of this succumb to the societal tradition of trying to make sense of it all?

If you’re looking for something new in your life that has substance and feeling, take 34 minutes out of your life and listen to "22, A Million," by Bon Iver. I fell in love. I hope you do, too.

@nicola_mcirvine

swerve@dailytarheel.com