When the band finally took the stage and began to play, after a moment of sincere awe-struckedness, I realized that all four guys were singing. It was so lovely, and the crowd was still, almost silent, though no [image-1]one was shushing anyone. I was typing on my iPod notepad trying to make sure I remembered details, and I realized that I could actually hear my own little tip-taps. I stopped taking iNotes after that, so forgive me what I forget in the retelling.
Of course, now that Ive downloaded the songs on iTunes, I know that all four guys had to sing to make it sound like the album. And they all had to be multi-instrumentalists, hence the stage set up. It was likely a bear of a task to put together a live band that re-created the feel of the densly layered tracks, but they really hit it.
I know that Justin Vernon was the cabin dweller and songwriter and soulspiller behind all of this lovely warm sadness, and that Bon Iver is referred to often, not as the name of a band, but as Vernons pseudonym. But, I really have to give some serious credit to the guys on stage with him that night. Mike Noyce (pictured at right), Sean Carey, and Matt McCaughan were beyond solid -- they were exceptional. The four of them together were breathtaking. When they played Skinny Love and everyone but Justin played some kind of drum, the effect was both spare and overflowing, and if it had been a movie, a stranger would have grabbed me and kissed me within inches of my life. When he gave us lyrics (what might have been lost) and a part to sing during The Wolves, I followed along like a happy little minion though I had no idea what I was singing about. When he sang Babies in his lilting falsetto, I considered getting pregnant, then I shook off the notion and wondered how many babies have actually been made to this stuff. They did a Jayhawks song as their first encore (one of two -- they only have so many songs), and it was so pretty it was almost embarrassing. And then when they were done, they thanked the be-Jesus out of us.
[image-2]Justin Vernon, by the way -- could he really be this nice? On stage, he's funny and unassuming and intense, and then so gracious. A million thank-yous and we-really-appreciate-its were thrown out. I know hes a Midwestern boy, and if youve been (Im from Peoria), you know those folks have some good manners, but could he be this nice? I dunno, but I was in that back alley after the show for a while -- fly-on-the walling, a little awestruck, and also kind of hoping for an interview (no luck). He didnt say one jerky thing the whole time. He thanked everyone again, he wished people a safe journey home, he even tried to remember the names of the people who came up and introduced themselves to ask for a picture or an autograph. He told my friend and I not to feel bad about not going to Bonnaroo because we would surely be happier at home in our warm beds.
Looking at him there in the alley, not an unattractive guy, but not striking or handsome, sort of led me to thinking about growing up and listening to my parents music. In the late '70s, when I was first getting my ears on, I could hear why my mom loved Simon and Garfunkel. I could not, however, see why my mom thought they were both so crush worthy. In that alley, as I took a picture of my friend dripping with pheromones over Justin, I finally understood.