Bon Iver has never stood still. From the hushed folk of For Emma, Forever Ago to the glitchy, fragmented production of 22, A Million, Justin Vernon has spent nearly two decades reshaping what Bon Iver can be. His music drifts between isolation and grand ambition, acoustic simplicity and digital complexity, but no matter the form, it always feels intensely human.
With a new album on the horizon, now is the perfect time to look back at six defining moments in Bon Iver’s discography – songs that changed everything, captured a moment in time, and set the stage for what’s next.
1. Skinny Love (For Emma, Forever Ago, 2007): The song that started it all
There are debut songs, and then there’s Skinny Love – a track so raw and exposed that it immediately cemented Bon Iver as a voice for heartbreak and solitude. Recorded in the dead of winter in a remote Wisconsin cabin, the song carries the weight of isolation, regret, and loss. Vernon’s fragile acoustics, aching falsetto, and confessional lyrics don’t just tell a story – they unravel one in real-time, making the listener feel like they’re sitting beside him as he processes heartbreak.
It’s easy to forget that For Emma, Forever Ago wasn’t intended as a grand artistic statement. It was a project born from a personal retreat, a creative exhale after the collapse of Vernon’s band, his health struggles, and the end of a relationship. He didn’t set out to write a defining album – he was simply trying to put himself back together. But in doing so, he created something that resonated far beyond his own experience.
Skinny Love quickly became a modern indie classic, introduced to wider audiences through covers, film soundtracks, and TV placements. But no version hits quite the same as Vernon’s original recording – just a man, a guitar, and the raw ache of a love that no longer exists. It’s this intimacy that makes the song timeless, capturing not just heartbreak, but the quiet, hollow space it leaves behind.
2. Holocene (Bon Iver, 2011): The moment Bon Iver transcended indie folk
If For Emma, Forever Ago was a winter retreat, then Holocene was the dawn of something bigger. It was the moment Bon Iver evolved from heartbroken singer-songwriter to something vast, cinematic, and transcendent.
Where Skinny Love felt like a whispered confession, Holocene unfurls like a landscape – shimmering guitars, ambient textures, and meditative lyricism combining to create a song that feels endless and weightless, yet deeply personal. It marked a shift – not just in Vernon’s songwriting, but in the way Bon Iver’s music could be experienced.
At the heart of Holocene is one of Vernon’s most haunting and self-reflective lines:
“And at once, I knew I was not magnificent.”
It’s a moment of humility and perspective, delivered with a sense of both resignation and peace. Inspired by a night of drunken wandering through his hometown, Vernon later described the song as a realisation of insignificance in the grand scheme of things – not in a way that feels crushing, but in a way that feels freeing.
Musically, Holocene stretched Bon Iver beyond the lo-fi folk textures of his debut. The song’s intricate layers of acoustic picking, brushed percussion, and reverberating horns created something sprawling yet intimate – a blueprint for the rest of Bon Iver, Bon Iver, which would go on to win the Grammy for Best Alternative Music Album and solidify Vernon as a boundary-pushing artist rather than just an indie folk icon.
Even now, over a decade later, Holocene remains a track that stops listeners in their tracks, a reminder of both our smallness and our connection to something greater.
3. Heavenly Father (Wish I Was Here Soundtrack, 2014): The turning point toward electronic experimentation
By 2014, Bon Iver’s sound was shifting. Heavenly Father, written for Wish I Was Here, marked a stark departure from the organic warmth of Vernon’s earlier work, introducing looped vocal samples, electronic textures, and pulsing repetition.
Lyrically, it wrestles with faith, doubt, and longing, with Vernon questioning:
“I was never sure how much of you I could let in.”
The song’s structure mirrors its thematic tension – his layered vocals glitch and restart, creating a sense of entrapment and searching. The lack of traditional instrumentation gives it an almost hymn-like quality, yet the mechanical repetition makes it feel detached, as if Vernon is pushing toward belief but constantly being pulled back.
Heavenly Father foreshadowed the experimental chaos of 22, A Million. Its manipulated vocals, fragmented storytelling, and hypnotic loops proved that Bon Iver was no longer bound to folk traditions – his sound had entered a new, unpredictable era.
4. 715 - CREEKS (22, A Million, 2016): Bon Iver, deconstructed
If Heavenly Father hinted at change, 715 - CREEKS confirmed it – Bon Iver had been completely rebuilt from the ground up. Stripped of instruments, the song is nothing but Vernon’s distorted, vocoded voice, twisting and glitching into something raw, haunting, and strangely intimate.
The absence of guitars, drums, or synths makes it almost confrontational – Vernon lays himself bare, singing of love, loss, and regret in a way that feels both deeply human and eerily mechanical. The vocoder, rather than creating distance, amplifies the emotion, making his voice sound like it’s breaking apart under the weight of memory.
This track was a turning point. It redefined what a Bon Iver song could be, proving that Vernon’s music was no longer confined to folk or even conventional song structure. 715 - CREEKS is Bon Iver at its most experimental, yet most exposed.
5. Hey, Ma (i,i, 2019): Blending past and future
With i,i, Bon Iver found harmony between his acoustic past and experimental future, and Hey, Ma captures that fusion beautifully. Lush, swelling instrumentation meets subtle electronic glitches, creating a track that feels warm yet fractured, nostalgic yet forward-looking.
Lyrically, it’s Vernon at his most reflective, unpacking memories of childhood and family through elliptical phrases and half-recalled details. The refrain “Hey, Ma” carries a quiet emotional weight – an echo of something familiar, comforting, but also distant.
Unlike 22, A Million, where Bon Iver sounded fragmented, Hey, Ma brings everything into focus. It softens the digital edges, proving that Vernon didn’t have to abandon his past to keep evolving – he could weave it into something new.
6. Speyside (Sable, Fable, 2025)
Bon Iver’s evolution has always been about pushing boundaries, and Speyside, from the upcoming album Sable, Fable, suggests yet another shift in sound. Ethereal and layered, the track leans into atmosphere, weaving Vernon’s signature falsetto with intricate production and a sonic palette that feels both expansive and deeply personal.
While details on Sable, Fable remain limited, Speyside hints at a record that fuses past and future, blending the organic textures of For Emma with the digital experimentation of 22, A Million. It feels like the next logical step – a continuation of Bon Iver’s relentless reinvention, pulling together the fragmented pieces of his past work into something entirely new.
With Vernon’s history of defying expectations, it’s impossible to predict exactly what Sable, Fable will sound like, but Speyside makes one thing clear: Bon Iver’s journey is far from over.
Looking Ahead – A New Era for Bon Iver
Bon Iver’s music has always been about movement – drifting between solitude and grandiosity, simplicity and complexity, past and future. With Sable, Fable on the horizon, Justin Vernon once again stands on the edge of reinvention, ready to push his sound into uncharted territory.
