Justin Vernon’s third Bon Iver album is a weird and wonderful thing
Forget trashing rooms and rent-a-quotes, just listen.
But, hang on. Weren't Oasis everything we could want from a rock band once? They fought, had rock star girlfriends, slagged people off and wanted loads of cash to blow on stupid houses. Fine, but those are exactly the things that have made them an embarrassment; an endless, dull cocaine comedown. Remember the disappointment you felt after 'Be Here Now'? Coldplay will never let you down like that.
Like Travis before them, Coldplay care about what really counts. 'Parachutes' is all that matters in the world to singer Chris Martin. It only takes one listen to realise how he has poured every thought, every feeling he's had in the last two years into this record. With the focus so much on Chris' voice here, it's like reading one long, intimate love letter.
). It's powerful because its sentiment is so simple. And, let's face it, so easy for everyone to comprehend.
Again, in the devotional 'Yellow' ("For you, I bleed myself dry", no less) or the gorgeous regret of 'Trouble' ("I never meant to do you harm"), it's the force of feeling which counts. That's what brings the entirely favourable comparisons to Jeff Buckley, The Verve, even Radiohead. But it's far gentler than anything the latter have ever done. Unlike Thom Yorke, Chris exists in a place we can almost understand. A place that Fran Healy might have passed through, but is too happy with his girlfriend to really remember.
All told, it's incredible this is a debut album. Accomplished, yet subtle, it works perfectly as a whole in a way all the production skills in the world couldn't replicate. Forget trashing rooms and rent-a-quotes, just listen. This really is all that matters.
Let it be that simple for once.
With their bigger and better second album, London-based indie/dance band Boxed In have earned their breakout moment
Islamic mythology meets the horror of war in this claustrophobic, low-budget spine-tingler
California’s coolest lift their usual murk on a free-spirited, adventurous third album at odds with its ‘mature’ description
The New York new wave reprobates’ debut delivers instant gratification via boisterous choruses and loveable melodies