Review Summary: Don’t believe the hype.
You’re probably going to read a lot of hastily written material in the next few days that portrays 22, a Million as something profound and unordinary for Justin Vernon. Certainly, cursory listens hint at Bon Iver having attempted to mangle and repurpose folk and soft rock tropes (“10 d E A T h b R E a s T ⚄ ⚄” most apparent). However, it's difficult to argue that case when, in the space of approximately 35-minutes, the minor distortion of form that is present on the album barely registers. It's there, somewhere, but then it's always been there to some extent ("Flume", "Woods", "Perth"). True, it’s a little more unseemly than Bon Iver, Bon Iver, and the presence of autotune and drum machines are ever so slightly more pronounced than on prior outings. But what is under that façade is pastoral, textural, and sparing folk rock; without question, it's a Bon Iver album.
Of course, there's nothing wrong with it being a Bon Iver album. Justin Vernon's always had a knack for emotional impact, and what little recorded material he has released under the moniker is consistently well-written if not well executed. If comparisons must be drawn, consider it a product of Vernon's fondness for Francis and the Lights, and not a curiosity borne of
Yeezus; alienation, but nothing too difficult. These songs are, compared to prior Bon Iver albums, busier, but they're no denser nor more grandly expressed than before. Nor are they particularly challenging or aggressive; after the admittedly impressive lead in of "22" / "10", the record settles with familiarity on "715 - CR∑∑KS", a familiar monologue about heartbreak processed through vocal modulation (similarities to "Fall Creek Boys Choir" and "Woods" most notable). Of course, it's pretty, and similar moments of rawness, as in "___45___", are as musically compelling as Vernon has ever been. When Vernon does try new things, it's wonderful; tracks like "21 M◊◊N WATER" and "8 (circle)" articulate an electronic ambiance that is, admittedly, new territory for Bon Iver. Despite reservations, there's tremendous satisfaction in poignancy sounding so consistent, brief, and roundly formed. Still, it's hard to make much of
22, a Million when it's obviously just a linear continuation of Vernon's recent work. It's nothing to complain about, per se, but anybody expecting anything other than just another Bon Iver album will be disappointed. Again, that's not a point of contention, rather an assurance that, even if this is Vernon exercising his creative faculties, it retains a satisfying sense of sameness.
There are obvious conclusions to draw from this, namely that you know what to expect. Vernon’s vocals haven’t altered much, still an impressionistic falsetto. His musical accompaniment is still scant, occasionally punctuated by horns and other details. There’s pianos, there’s acoustic guitars, and there’s more than a hint of despair when Vernon delivers some acerbic line, like, ‘fuck the fashion of it, dear.’ Most importantly, though, these are things he already did on For Emma, Forever Ago and Bon Iver, Bon Iver. There's little shock that he's added a little bit of saxophone here and a hint of autotune there; after all, Vernon is exceptional when it comes to composition, and he understands the dynamics of performance well. There's something comforting in the familiarity of 22, a Million's embrace. Personally, I’m not complaining.
