Listening to Bon Iver brings to mind a quote from Julie Buntin’s novel “Marlena”: “I want to go home but what I mean, what I'm grasping for, is not a place. It's a feeling. I want to go back. But back where?”
That feeling, of searching for some intangible comfort, has always been core to the band’s output. Ever since the solitary creaks and layered vocals of debut album ‘For Emma, Forever Ago’, recorded in a remote Wisconsin cabin, Bon Iver has become synonymous with a woodsy, folkloric feel — their music a liminal space in which quiet transitions emerge and emotions thaw.
