There’s something that happens to some of us the first time we experience seeing music performed live. There is a feeling experienced that, while impossible to describe, changes us forever. It changes the way we experience music and the world around us. We begin chasing that feeling by seeing as many bands as we can, endlessly. We base our friendships on shared stories of musical experiences and tastes. When we meet new people, we often take them to a show in order to reflect our love of live music. While that first experience may dull with the passing of time and hardly rank in our “Top Gigs of All Time” lists (for some of us, it may even become a source of humourous shame), its emotional imprint leaves a hole in us that we strive to fill. As we attend more and more shows, that hole becomes harder and harder to fill as we become more and more accustomed to how bands perform, and that feeling that we yearn for is felt less and less. At times we may become extremely cynical and make rather rash comments about the bands performing for us, but we never, ever give up on the possibility of experiencing that indescribable feeling again. We keep attending gig after gig hoping that we will see something truly awesome; and I mean awesome in its purest form in that we experience something that inspires nothing but awe in us. For me, I can name exactly every show that has inspired awe in me and has left me with such a feeling that, in the days following, I’ve questioned what I do in my normal day-to-day activities. After all, how can ordinary life possibly live up to the feeling of sheer euphoria experienced the night before? Those shows have been Pearl Jam (18 & 19 Feb 2003, 16 Nov 2006, 14 & 20 Nov 2009 and 3 & 4 Sept 2011), Radiohead (26 April 2004), Tool (23 July 2001, I’ve since seen Tool another three times, but nothing has ever touched that first experience) and Sigur Rós (3 August 2005 and 1 August 2008). Now, that might seem like a lot, but I’ve been attending shows for fourteen years, which means that these truly awe inspiring gigs occur less than once a year for me and without Pearl Jam, they would only occur once every three and a half years. I tell you all of this because I believe that it is important for you understand how rare this kind of show is, and how truly amazing Bon Iver’s performance was in order for me to add his March 8, 2012 show at Melbourne’s Sidney Myer Music Bowl to this list. Bon Iver began the night’s proceedings with the opening track from his latest album (Bon Iver, Bon Iver), the excellent Perth. The crowd, seemingly ecstatic with anticipation, let out a tremendous roar as those first few notes were played as though it were the single moment they’d been waiting for to express just how much they love Bon Iver’s music and how much they had been looking forward to this event. As the song moved on into its explosive closing section, it was already clear that this was going to be a very special night. Every element of the performance had been carefully catered for. An unexpected, but surprisingly effect mammoth live sound help fill the air with the true beauty that is Bon Iver’s music. Every note carefully planned to take the listener on a journey. The stage production with the seemingly simple rags hanging from the lighting scaffolds became incredibly effective projection screens as their unique shape allowed the lighting to create shadows, colours and effects to compliment the aural journey in every way. The best way I can describe the lighting and stage production is that it’s as if Justin Vernon had taken his favourite parts of Sigur Rós and Radiohead live shows and recreated them with his own unique vision.
While every single song was a highlight that tested and encouraged the flow of emotion, there were some utterly breathtaking tracks that need to be mentioned, the first of which came with recent single, Holocene. It was one of those special moments where the band members and the crowd all seemed to blend together and become one, moving through the song like a beautifully complex creature. It’s a synergy that is incredibly rare, but unmistakable when it happens. When the song had finished, at least half the audience members I could see were in tears, with the other half on the brink of letting theirs out. They weren’t tears of sadness because it was/is a sad song, they were the kind of tears that the body brings forth when overwhelmed by pure joy.
Another highlight was re: stacks from his 2008 debut album, For Emma, Forever Ago. In contrast with the rest of the evening, Vernon elected to play this one solo. His eight-piece band left the stage, leaving Vernon to perform one of the most heartfelt tracks in his catalogue. It was as though he wanted to highlight the loneliness and isolation of the song by having his normally full stage appear sparse, almost desolate. It worked because as the song wound through its verses and choruses the crowd was almost silent, allowing the pain of the song to be expressed fully by the very man who felt it and experienced it so intimately that the only way it could come out was through song.
In contrast, Blood Bank, from the 2009 Blood Bank EP, was ramped up with drums and keys to give it a more rollicking feel. It created an excellent counterpoint to the slower, freer choruses and allowed these parts of the song to be accentuated in a way that they aren’t on record.
Eventually, the night did have to come to a close. Pressed for time by the Sidney Myer Music Bowl’s 11pm weeknight curfew, the band abandoned the usual, obligatory walk off stage/pretend encore that seem to be the norm these days. Instead, they pressed through and closed with crowd favourite, and breakthrough hit, Skinny Love and the haunting Wolves (Act I and II). Both songs had the audience in full voice, singing along at the top of their lungs and, at times, drowning out the band as both parties made the most of their final moments together. Vernon appeared to be truly appreciative of the crowd and revealed that the 12,000 strong crowd was the biggest they had ever played to and that it was a night that he and the band would not forget. The crowd equally felt that sentiment as they gave the band an ovation, the volume of which I have not heard in a very long time. It was the sound of the people thanking the band for putting in the effort required to create a truly special and memorable live performance. As the house lights went up and the crowd began making their way to the exits, I found myself sitting perfectly still. I didn’t want to move, even slightest little bit. I knew that if I moved, the moment would be over. The experience would pass from being right now, to being in the past. Try as I did, the moment did pass and is now memory. But it is a memory that I will hold for a very long time, as it sincerely was one of the best live shows that I have ever attended. Thank you Bon Iver!
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