Bon Iver purists may feel a familiar sense of frustration after listening to Justin Vernon’s fifth studio album, SABLE, fABLE. On the one hand, the record includes the SABLE EP (2024), which features three strong tracks, including the unmatched “S P E Y S I D E”. That offering hinted at a return to form, even if it included odd capitalization and punctuation choices (are those spaces in the song title?). However, that is only half of the equation, as SABLE, fABLE contains lush arrangements and celebrates Bon Iver‘s affinity for R&B over sparse folk sounds that put him on the map.
Any review criticizing Bon Iver for not recording another For Emma, Forever Ago (2008) runs the risk of sounding reductionist. Many fans remember a time when the Blood Bank EP (2009) and self-titled sophomore effort (2011) were almost too ornate, thus making 22, A Million (2016) a convoluted mess. Over the past decade, Bon Iver’s guest work and standalone singles have been relatively straightforward, but their records have ventured into processed and glitchy territory. Those manufactured sounds appeal to particular tastes, but many still long for the days when Vernon was equipped with little more than an acoustic guitar and his falsetto voice.
SABLE, fABLE may now feel like a bait and switch, as the full LP takes listeners on an intricate and cathartic journey about celebrating the love around us. Produced by Vernon and Jim-E Stack, it moves from sparse folk to a communal celebration throughout a dozen tracks, which are as intriguing as varied. The flow of the LP may be disorienting, but the core melodies are tight, and each complex arrangement merits unpacking. One hopes listeners might finally grasp that this is Vernon’s craft now, full of uplifting sounds focused on collective understanding and not an individual’s solitary retreat to a cabin in the woods.
In a New York Times “Popcast” interview, Vernon shared more about the positive transformation in his work. SABLE, symbolizing the darkest color Vernon could conjure, reflected all that he had been wrestling with, fueled by a meteoric rise, which led to being overworked and overrun with anxiety. Of those tracks, he said, “I like the songs a lot, and they were kind of like these last moments of the last gasping breath of my former self that really did feel bad for himself.”
Conversely, fABLE better encapsulates his current mindset, the consciousness of somebody once shrouded in darkness who has found the light. From that standpoint, the record is his most personal undertaking yet.
Vernon asks listeners to embark upon this intimate journey of self-discovery (or rediscovery, as the case may be). Undoubtedly, a not unsubstantial portion of his fanbase will refuse to meet him halfway, especially those still clinging to the rare beauty of For Emma, Forever Ago. While some of the promotional activities surrounding the record attempt to be coy (like organizing a basketball tournament, pitting SABLE and fABLE teams against each other), the record primarily deals with the serious matter of Vernon reclaiming inner peace.
That is nowhere more obvious than on the single “Everything Is Peaceful Love”. Even if Vernon will never achieve the vocal quality of Prince, his passion shines through: “And damn, if I’m not climbing up a tree right now / And every little thing is love / And right with me.”
For somebody famous, an autobiographical journey can mean reflecting upon stardom and the legacy that one leaves behind. Vernon identifies such concerns on “THINGS BEHIND THINGS BEHIND THINGS” (“I got caught compiling my old news”) and “S P E Y S I D E” (“I can’t rest on no dynasty”). These thoughts sound self-important, not necessarily indelicate, and are just disconnected from the average person (like seeing a former love interest on TV, on “AWARDS SEASON”). More relatable is when Vernon sings about deep meaning that can be found all around us, which he taps into here and elsewhere on the record: “There are things behind things behind things / And there are rings within rings within rings.”
The considerable fABLE section sees Bon Iver using new production techniques, as has become customary. It’s as if Vernon cannot help but make noise in the absence of it, like a coworker who hums when the room is still. For instance, the refrain for “Walk Home” incorporates compressed vocals over a flattened bass on an otherwise Bruce Hornsby-inspired gem. “Day One” (featuring Dijon and Flock of Dimes) hides a soulful song under all the production techniques, which shoot up across different stereo channels to make way for a blaring synth solo. One can momentarily forget such embellishments and get lost in the feeling Vernon pours into his vocals.
The quality of the tracks featured in the latter half cannot be denied. “From” could be mistaken for a 1990s gospel and R&B crossover hit, whereas “I’ll Be There” finds Vernon channeling Michael McDonald-era Doobie Brothers. With drum machine backing, “If Only I Could Wait” (featuring Danielle Haim), finds Vernon searching for a foothold until Haim takes control, allowing for a sweet duet between the two. “There’s a Rhythm” is undoubtedly the most beautiful track, as it includes a simple structure enhanced by the backing vocals and horns. The mood, filled with longing but not sadness, aligns with this new outlook.
Ironically, Sable offered one last glimmer of hope that Bon Iver had returned to a purer, simpler form. However, the entire record inspires new possibilities instead of closing them off. There is a tendency to assume that when Vernon tinkers with new techniques, he is self-indulgent, failing to break new ground. However, those extraneous sounds offer more than aural stimulation. Repeated listens soften the impact and help normalize unfamiliarity, underscoring Vernon’s genius. The resulting statement proves as enjoyable as it is personal, perhaps as close as Vernon will ever get to what he hoped to become.