With Bon Iver, the story has always been as important as the songs.  

When their first album For Emma, Forever Ago became a mega-hit in 2008, it was partly because of indie-folk earworms like ‘Skinny Love’ – and partly because the whole thing was created in a lonely cabin in northern Wisconsin. Struck down by an overwhelming sense of futility, songwriter Justin Vernon had dumped his girlfriend and run to the frozen wastes to make his solitary masterpiece. That’s the kind of tortured-artist behaviour on which legends are built.  

Last week, his fifth album, SABLE, fABLE (sic), landed. This time, the songs’ accompanying story has been reversed. The first three tunes were released back in October – sad, fragile pieces about anxiety and self-doubt. Then, last Friday, the rest of the album brought redemption: joyful, upbeat songs, wreathed in gospel vocals and hummable melodies.  

So what caused the change? Easy: Vernon fell in love. And thus we come full circle, you might think – from the ‘running away’ album to the ‘finding love’ album. Happy ending.  

Except – not really. Here’s Vernon and an interviewer in a piece for The Guardian:  

“This person made me feel really good about myself.” Then came the classic next step: “Let me just give you everything. I need that feeling. Please give it to me constantly.” He had to pull back from the relationship. “Where’s the personal growth?” 

Although SABLE, fABLE dramatises the euphoria of sacrificial love, only months later, its creator is already describing his horror of being lashed to another human. Though self-giving love took his life and art to new heights of joy, the fear that it might restrict his personal evolution quickly applied the brakes. It’s fair to suggest that stifling the urge to give and receive love might also bring back the pain from those first three songs. 

If all this sounds like Vernon-bashing, it’s really not. This kind of individualistic fear is endemic in our culture: he just happens to be sharing his in public. In that context, whether intentionally or not, SABLE, fABLE ends up being a powerful affirmation of the truth Jesus spoke: that the greatest commandment is to love God with all our being, and to love our neighbours as ourselves (Matthew 22:36–40). We aren’t smothered when we love sacrificially – instead, paradoxically, as we give out we become increasingly whole.  

That’s a healing message for so many people. This week, how can we embody and speak it to them? 

Josh Hinton
Josh is Head of Communications at LICC and writes regularly on music and the arts for Connecting with Culture.