Bon Iver Concert Poster
You have to love the urgent emotional nature of Bon Iver’s new folk.
Bon Iver Concert
Aladdin Theater Portland Oregon
Size 11 x 17 Inches (28 x 43 cm) Flyer Size
LOW INVENTORY ITEM, (One Left), It may be pulled for auction if it does not sell by midnight >>> 12 hours 44 minutes 22 seconds << Act now to OWN this
Helped by a creative light program, the band took us on the experience of their second cd, Bon Iver. As far as phase design went, the setting was perfectly correlated with the overall aura of the album. Torn curtains hung from the ceiling, and fairy lights moved in between instruments.
“This is pouring rain, this is paralyzed,” Vernon sang during Re: Stacks, leaving the audience exactly that.
Vernon was a gentleman on phase, asking how the audience was and continuously thanking us for paying attention. Followers even got to sing Happy Birthday to Bon Iver’s “boss,” a highlight of the evening. Residents had plenty of sing-along moments, Vernon asking Tampa to belt out “what might have been lost” during The Wolves (Acts I and II), a chilling experience to be part of. Hollers and whoops followed numerous of the vocalist’s high falsetto notes.
After a soft melody (Wash.) and a gentle alt-rock tune (Holocene), Bon Iver closed by doing a fan favorite, Skinny Love, in which fans sang together in an expanding crescendo, the entire location shaking. In a night filled with wonder, laughter and rips, Justin Vernon and Bon Iver brought to Tampa what has actually made them a must-see act around the nation: soft people tunes led by one unforgettable voice.
The crowd couldn’t sing like Justin Vernon– his high-pitched voice sounds untethered from his body, like a balloon that’s slipped from his grasp, with the upward trajectory of a moth movinged towards the sunlight.
“Would you guys sing with us?” the Bon Iver frontman asked near the end of his band’s tempestuous set at The Joint on Thursday. “You start quiet and you gotta get louder and louder, and by the end, you’re just shouting.”.
By this point in the 90-minute program, however, nobody should be informed as much, as this was the tread-softly-then-explode dynamic that powered much of the evening.
The phase worked as a protein shake for this lot, an avenue for an influx of muscle-building amino acids, adding heft and density to the band’s intricately built indie people, which could be papier-mache fragile in recorded kind.
Think about Bon Iver’s two records, 2008’s “For Emma, Forever Ago” and last year’s Grammy-winning “Bon Iver, Bon Iver,” as skeletons upon which the band piled layers of sinew and bulging veins in the live setting.
Backed by an eight-piece band that consisted of two drummers and a beefy baritone saxophonist who seemed he can have an effective second profession wrestling bears, Vernon expanded his tracks, which, lyrically speaking, drift towards the inscrutable.
One could possibly invest an afternoon Googling the arcane words, occasionally made up, and left-field references that make up Vernon’s lyrics, total with Biblical allusions, vague metaphors and nautical terms.
“The subconscious is an unclean thing,” Vernon revealed before playing the spare, acoustic “Beach Baby,” and one gets the sense that, for him, songwriting is a means of clearing out said mess.
As an entertainer, however, Vernon is much more direct, laying his motives bare, revitalizing his songs with a kinetic physical presence, hopping up and down on one leg, duck walking across the stage, headbanging and playing his guitar from his knees at times.
He shook out unself-consciously, the method he might in his room when no one was watching.
Vernon’s increased adrenaline levels materialized themselves in Bon Iver’s tunes also.
Program opener “Perth” was a harbinger of exactly what was to come, starting at a low simmer and ending in a rancorous din with blaring horns and concussive drums that cracked like lightning felling a redwood.
“Holocene” was initially colored by blithe four-part consistencies before reaching an overheated crescendo that culminated in a screeching sax solo, which bled into “Blood Bank,” another full-bodied jam where Vernon ripped out the kind of metal-worthy guitar leads that are normally punctuated by a wagging tongue and great deals of devil horn hand gestures extended in the crowd.
These more purposely overblown moments were contrasted with even more tranquil ones, such as hushed waltz “Michicant” or the stark, solemn appearing “re: Stacks,” a track so muted that it was nearly muffled by crowd chatter.
The audience members’ voices grew louder still for “Skinny Love,” which turned into a loud, throaty sing-a-long that seemed like a last release of the pent-up energy that Bon Iver’s catalog is so rife with.
Helped by an imaginative light show, the band took us on the experience of their second cd, Bon Iver. As far as phase design went, the setting was completely associated with the total aura of the cd. Vernon was a gentleman on stage, asking how the audience was and constantly thanking us for paying attention. Fans even got to sing Happy Birthday to Bon Iver’s “employer,” a highlight of the night. Citizens had plenty of sing-along minutes, Vernon asking Tampa to belt out “exactly what might have been lost” throughout The Wolves (Acts I and II), a chilling experience to be part of.
What up Bon Iver?
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