Holocene Bon Iver- by Arthur

WARNING THIS ESSAY HAS EXTENSIVE REFERENCES TO SUICIDE

Togetherness Reviewed

Holocene - Bon Iver

There are songs that remind you of someone you love and there are songs that bring them to wherever you are, even if it is only for 636 seconds. For me, Holocene from Bon Iver brings back my brother.

According to Justin Vernon, the lead songwriter for Bon Iver, the piece is about earth’s current geological age, the Holocene. I find this rather ironic; considering that this essay is largely inspired by the writings of author John Green in his book and podcast, both called “The Anthropocene Reviewed”, in which Green describes the anthropocene as earth’s current geological age.

Despite my difference in opinion with Vernon on matters of geology, I still consider this song a musical masterpiece. In one of my favourite video essays about the song, it is mentioned that, in the song, the rhythmic duties are carried out by a metal stringed, plucked, acoustic guitar. A steady, almost unceasing arpeggio of complex sounding chords forms the basis of the majority of the music.

The first time I heard this, I almost lost myself in the mystical effect. I could practically see the mist rising in the early morning over the town of Eau Claire, Wisconsin (which inspired Vernon to write the song). As the introduction goes on, the texture of the music begins to thicken, with additional instruments being added in, which culminates with the first line of the piece; “Somewhere baby it’s part of me, apart from me”.

Vernon sings this in his stereotypical falsetto which, along with the vocals being placed slightly further back in the mix than usual, intensifies the aetherial feeling of the music. This almost creates the impression that Vernon is narrating some past event in his life that he now feels distant from, but will also forever carry with him.

This is also why the first line of the song is so beautifully resonant for me. I think that everyone has something in their life that they know will be part of them forever but that they also feel “apart from”. Whether this be the memory of a person that was alive, but now no longer is or, perhaps, a part of yourself that you’ve lost touch with; ultimately, we can all empathise with Vernon.

A couple of lines on, the lyrics of the song and the manner in which they are sung once again strike me deeply. The words go “you fucked it friend”, they are delivered as if Vernon is simply reminiscing about the past. More importantly to me, it feels like there is no judgement on the friend who fucked up. This is how I feel about my brother’s suicide.

“You fucked it friend”, but I understand and I am not angry and I hope that you have found peace.

After I had heard Holocene a couple of times, I started to connect with more of Bon Iver’s music. I am certain that I have never heard my brother mention their music to me, but the themes of drug addiction, nature and hermeneutics are common both to the band’s music and many of the conversation’s I had with my brother while he was alive.

This is especially clear in the “chorus” section of the piece. Vernon sings the line “and at once, I knew I was not magnificent”, which for me signifies the moment that Vernon is humbled by nature. He can see and feel it’s raw power and realises his true insignificance in the grand scheme of things.

When I first thought of this analysis, I was disgusted with myself. One of my favourite musicians and lyricists had become the very thing that I hated; a romantic era poet. Suddenly, the music felt less special to me as Vernon was simply following in the well trodden steps of Wordsworth. How was “Holocene” any different to “The Prelude”, which I had been forced to study during English Literature classes for two grueling years? Yet, somehow, I no longer feel this cynicism, but instead draw strength from knowing that at times in their lives Wordsworth and Vernon have also felt the same pull towards nihilism that I have. That they too, realised that they are “not magnificent”, but also that they knew this was not a reason to give up.

Yet, my brother did give up. He often told me that he wasn’t the type of person to get old; I know there were things in life he wanted: meeting the love of his life, partying, seeing me grow up, but, gradually, all of these things happened. For him, these feelings peaked in 2016, when he lost someone dear to him. He was overcome with this reality shattering sense of grief and guilt. I was still quite young at the time, but the people I spoke to told me that things were never really the same after this.

This is mirrored by the structure of “Holocene”. Around 3:48, a large number of instruments drop out of the mix and you can hear a guitar play a closing cadence. To me, this mirrors a closing of a chapter in my brother’s life. Yet, the song, much like his life did, continues.

A set of saxophones starts to play a dissident mix of notes. To me this has always been the auditory representation of grief and loss and pain. Whether it be the gut wrenching pain that I feel now, or the pain I know my brother must have felt in 2016.

Gradually, the familiar patterns of the piece fade back in. However, the texture and volume of the piece do not return to the familiar, comforting, levels that you could hear before the bridge section. Instead, the music continues to crescendo through one final chorus. As the piece wraps up, we are left to contemplate Vernon singing one last time “And I can see for miles, miles, miles”.

I don’t how you’re supposed to feel when “Holocene” is over. Sometimes I feel heavy with the weight of grief, sometimes I get an extraordinary sense of clarity from it, but the best times are when it fills me with hope. The sort of radical hope that you read about more often than you feel it. The kind of hope that makes you believe you will persist.

I give “Holocene” by Bon Iver five stars.

If you, or anyone you know was affected by the contents of this essay, or has suicidal thoughts you can find the relevant hotline for your country at:

https://www.opencounseling.com/suicide-hotlines

Epilogue

I’d like to write a little thank you to John Green, who wrote “the Anthropocene Reviewed”, and without whom, I don’t think I would have had the clarity to get all of my thoughts into a written essay. After the death of my brother, I had the good fortune to talk to mental health professionals, but it was hearing the review of “New Partner” that gave me the inspiration to start writing. About “New Partner” John writes: “it’s a kind of actual magic, because it has the ability to transport me to all the places I’ve heard that song before”. I’ve never listened to “New Partner”, that’s not my magic. It’s not my song.

But, I do hope everyone finds their “New Partner” someday and when you do, I’d love to hear about it.