Bon Iver, the un-interview with zero questions
Okay, before I even get started, if you like Bon Iver (pronounced bahn ee-vare) and want to see them live, your opportunities are dwindling fast, so go make arrangements now. Trust me. I saw them last week at The State Theatre in St. Pete, Fl and it was amazing. You can read my review of the show here.
Justin Vernon
Justin Vernon is the kind of rock star you should have a crush on. I surely do, and Justin Vernon is — essentially — Bon Iver. The first album released under the name Bon Iver (For Emma Forever Ago) was all recorded by Justin in his dad’s hunting cabin (yes, he hunts) all by himself. He had intended to hole himself up there to mend his broken heart (and you may have already known this because you can read it all over the Web. The heartbreaker girl’s full name is actually available on the wikipedia page — oh the horror). He ended up creating an indie masterpiece full to bursting with layered and lilting vocals and soul-wrenching melody. It is not upbeat, but it is stunning. If something bad has happened to you this past year, and really, how could you have avoided it, this is your album.
Now, ordinarily I post about bands that have answered a certain 9 questions for me. Justin Vernon is perhaps out of my current journalistic reach, but I did meet him in the alley behind the theatre at the show. I didn’t really know what I was doing as I made my way to the back of the theatre — I was just following my friend Suzie. She was intending to meet him come Hell or high water, I was trying to keep up in my wedge heels. This is how it went — to the best of my recollection:
We arrive in the area where the band is gathered behind the venue. There are a lot of kids — late teens — crowded around him, he is signing tickets and having his photo taken with them. I notice he is wearing seer-sucker shorts. Suzie waits her turn and then walks up to him & hugs him.
I think Suzie says something like: “Hi — thank you so much — great show.”
To which Justin Vernon replied: “Oh, thanks, thanks so much, really.”
S: “Can I take a picture with you?”
J: “Oh yeah, sure.”
Suzie hands me her iphone, that I do not know how to use. A stranger asks if I would like him to take the picture so I can be in it. I decline because I know Suzie is a huge fan and I figure she would rather it were just the two of them. It would have felt like cutting in on a slow dance. So I take the picture and it looks like the typical fan shot — him with his arm around her, both smiling. I take two because I don’t have my glasses on and am afraid it will be blurry.
S: “Thanks so much.”
J: “Oh yeah, sure, of course.”
At this point Suzie gives me a look that I can interpret this way: “Dude, aren’t you here on a press pass to review the show? Aren’t you going to try to interview him?” I shake my head and we step back to let other people in. She tells me she thinks the way she hugged him may have been a little too personal, perhaps inappropriate. Then she asks me about interviewing him, but out loud, and I tell her I don’t know where I’d even begin. Suddenly she realizes that she wants him to sign her ticket. Then she discovers that she doesn’t have a paper ticket for him to sign and calls another friend on the phone, who is just about to leave, so she can get one. She runs off and I sit in the alley on the curb and wait.
While I wait, I watch. Justin Vernon speaks to everyone that wants to talk to him. He takes tons of photos. No one is “handling” him or telling him they need to hurry up and get going. Other members of the band are talking to fans, it is all very casual. This is rarely the case, even when a band isn’t exactly U2. Justin actually tries to get the names right of a group of girls he is speaking with — two are named Jenna and he tells them that this is helpful. A tiny little girl is getting her photo taken with him and she is concerned that she is too tall and is blocking his face. He actually sort of tells her that while she is tall (um, no, but nice I guess) he can see over her just fine. He glances at me once and I read it as “what are you doing over there strange girl on the curb?” I have no idea if that was his actual thought pattern. At this point I am trying to get up the nerve to ask him some questions. I am trying to decide what the fuck to ask. On the one hand, I rarely do this in person, it is usually a matter of emailing the questions to a publicist. (I did email his publicist that morning, FYI, to see if I could set up a meeting with him — which was a crazy shot in the dark). On the other hand, I am in a band, half of my friends are in bands, half of my conversations are about music. Clearly, I should be able to have a conversation with him about music. I try very hard to shake off the stupor in which the show has left me.
Suzie returns with a ticket for him to sign and explains to him that she had to go get it from her friend.
S: “Would you sign it for me?”
J: “Yeah, no problem.”
He signs her ticket. Then she actually asks if he’ll take another photo with her because she thought the first one was stupid. He laughs and I am wondering what he could possibly think of the two of us. She asks him to stand under the light and lean against the wall and she does the same. I am the photographer again with no glasses.
Thank goodness he seems to think we are funny. Then he and S both look at me like I must have something to say, which I really do not. But, I say something anyway.
Van: “So, actually, I am here tonight to review the show for Creative Loafing and I was kind of wondering if you could answer a few questions? I mean, when you are done talking to everyone, I can wait of course.” Clearly I am a schlub with this stuff.
J: “Um, well, I would, except that I’m kind of not supposed to. I guess I say a lot of stupid things in interviews, so I’m not really supposed to just do them.”
V: “Well, I ask pretty stupid questions, so that might work out really well for us.”
J: “If my manager comes around I can ask if it would be okay.” He kind of looks around him and we stand there for a moment in awkwardness.
S: “You’re headed to Bonnaroo now, right?” Suzie does not like awkward silence.
J: “Yeah, that should be pretty crazy.” He is visibly relieved that she has changed the subject.
S: “Yeah, we wanted to go but can’t.”
V: “Plus, I don’t know about all that sleeping in tents stuff.”
J: “Yeah, you know what, on Friday night when we’re there you’ll be home in your nice warm bed, and that’ll be better anyway.” Spoken like a guy who records a whole album all by himself in a cabin in the woods.
S & V: “Oh yeah” etc.
J: “I should get back, but I’ll let you know.”
V: “Thanks.”
He did come back, of course, because he is one of the nicest rock star types I have ever met. This is a really talented, intense musician that you could still bring home to have dinner with your folks. But he said he would have to decline, though it was very nice meeting us and he had a great time in Florida entirely, where he had not known he had such great fans.
We walked to my car, and he walked to the tour bus, and then I had to drive right past the tour bus to go home. I seriously considered, as I drove past him, pulling up, rolling down the window and asking if he would just answer one question so I could still write a blog about it. I thought I would call it “Meet Justin Vernon — One Little Question.” But I didn’t even wave — because that would just be weird, right? Ugh.
Here’s the thing. Justin Vernon and the whole Bon Iver thing are HUGE in the indie press. Just mammoth, really. When I email publicists for bands that only have a few hundred myspace fans I often get no response at all, so I didn’t really expect to get one for freakin’ Justin Vernon when I had the nerve to email the woman at Jagjaguwar and invite him to come eat pizza with us — nice and unassuming though he may be. His publicist did thank me for the link to the review, which is nice. And he was extremely gracious. No nine questions, but still very worthy of a blog and your ear-time. Go listen to Skinnylove and tell me what you think — I just love it. And Justin, if you read this, you should call next time you are in town, I really do know the best place to get a slice.
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