Skinny Love

So, let it be said first and foremost that I'm fully aware that I'm rather late to come around to Bon Iver. For years now I've heard fine reviews of Justin Vernon's musical stylings, especially in respect to his lyrics, but have only ever given him a passing glance. Perhaps due to a few bad song referrals - it seems I had only caught the handful of of YouTube music videos by the group that leaned a bit to close to angsty production value than true, heartfelt songwriting. This past summer even, my mother expressed great interest in the band, driven by their close ties to Wisconsin and an inspiring article written about them in a local newspaper. Still, I resisted, and Bon Iver remained a group I regarded as simply another indie up-and-comer with whom I'd never connect.

Well, my occasional musical snobbery has bit me in the ass once or twice before, and will probably do so again, but I am happy to say that for whatever reason, I gave Bon Iver a go this evening, and have been pleasantly surprised.

Lyrically, yes, Vernon shines. His narrative, yet metaphorical style provokes vague imagery, imbuing sensation and emotion far more than any firm sense of place, which is fitting, considering his hauntingly strong vocal range. In fact, although that range was one of the things that initially turned me off of the band, upon further listening, I'm really quite impressed by it. And certainly, no one can argue his vocal talent.

Further than that though, the band as a whole, and Vernon himself, have a strong sense of musical honesty. Perhaps not in every song (unfortunately), but in handful of very solid gems, its clear that strong technical skill enhances their ability to play with their music in a very innocent, inspired way. From arrangements featuring lurid but intricate acoustic guitar work to unison clapping and stomping, Bon Iver makes full use of their tool set to bring listeners an enjoyable - although not always entirely original - sound scape.

To share a taste - my favorite thus far - I present Skinny Love by Bon Iver.

Despite a raw beginning, Vernon's passion in this version of the song is exemplary; it reminds me of someone I used to know.

From One Bird to Another

Things here have been a steady mix of improving strengths and conquering demons. Small demons, like self-criticism, defeatist attitudes, and an uncanny ability to eat oneself silly when faced with emotional overload. Luckily, all of those bitter things are a taste familiar to my tongue, and I've learned to stare them down. Yup, its been a week, and a tough one at that. Tough in terms of resolve, but where I've let myself indulge in some respects, I've had iron will in other, far more important areas. Few words spoken out of line, and none spoken or written in areas where weakness might have me slip. Instead, my time these days is spent between coding tutorials, photography books, and the strings of my guitar. Actually, not my guitar - a guitar I've been babysitting for my mum's friend for a few years now. Its an old Yamaha, nothing overly impressive, but its got a sound that fits the echo of my heart these days, so I've left my guitar to sit lonely in the corner in exchange for unfamiliar strings. Metaphor? Perhaps. But there is little to be done about a changing of hands and the subtle twists a heart makes when it picks itself up from a bad fall.

Generally, I'm content.  It's a bit hollow - I still have trouble looking around my room, looking at my phone, catching myself remembering how close I came to something so damn good.  Feeling a little crazy sometimes, because of the way things worked out and the fact that there are only really a handful of people who know just how close we were.  And none as much as he and I.  Losing a best friend is the fuckin pits.  No matter how kind I am to myself, or how much I bury myself in time with friends/family or doing the things I love in my free time, there's still this second version of me, walking just a step or two behind, living a half-life in which things are what they could have been.  In time, that's bound to pass, I'm sure.  I just...wish.

Anyway, I've been recording myself singing and playing the guitar.  Sooner or later I put something up here...for now though its just good practice, and good reference to see how much my vocal habits have changed since show choir. 

Of course, I'm catching up on Dexter too. I was sucked in two years ago, but haven't seen much since. In the past week I've watched season 4 and really enjoyed it. Kudos to Michael C. Hall (LOVED him in Six Feet Under as well) and John Lithgow (yea, I totally watched 3rd Rock from the Sun) for playing off of each other so well, and being incredible actors overall.

As always, there's a song to my day. Today (a rather momentous day in my small world of baby steps that lead to standing apart from a dream that's been dear to my heart for longer than I care to admit), I find myself drawn yet again to the hauntingly simple and sweet stylings of Geri X, an artist from the Tampa Bay area. For its lyrics, gentle guitar accompaniment, and subtle soul, I give you Seven of Spades by Geri X.

And once that's said and done, the follow up is Paint Yourself Crazy, also by Geri X.