This show has passed.
From the Promoter
Ever since the door swung shut on that north woods cabin, we all felt like Justin entered a future we had imagined as kids. It was an obsessive, simple dream we shared as teenagers growing up in Wisconsin: just music, always. For me that started with Justin asking: "Trev, wanna be in a band?" as we passed each other in the hallway in front of our high school's trophy case. From then on, along with five of our closest friends, we played anything together, giving everything a go. From jazz standards and ska vamps, free improv freak-outs and marching band anthems to writing our own music. Through these musical experiences, we began to find and form our hearts collectively. All together we assembled musical materials that reflected and produced a shared consciousness that continues today: how we respond to certain tonalities, how to create atmospheres and what we want them to do, which harmonies bring forth places we seek out, how particular articulations can explain more than words can even begin to attempt. Motion and thoughts aligned. Collective goals formed piece by piece. This was how the dream began.
But dreams adjust in new realities. Bands came and went. Time passed in Wisconsin, people moved apart and pursued inner impulses that had been set-aside during our youth. Maybe we should have trusted ourselves more, but all we knew was music and being together, so we rightfully questioned how we could stand as individuals. Many of us moved to North Carolina, I was on the other side of the ocean. For a few years I only heard small vignettes of my friends' new life down south. And then my heart split when I heard that Justin was leaving North Carolina to return to Wisconsin. I watched from afar as my friends began to tear apart. What could have happened? I felt helpless. And then For Emma, Forever Ago emerged. When I read the album title, my heart sank again. My reaction was more worry than anything. I knew Justin's recourse to isolation and the past, almost a crippling nostalgia that prevented him from moving onward. This title was a beacon looking back. But when I finally heard the music, I felt relief - it was Justin, raw and vulnerable, as the music had always been. In fact, it was almost normal in how extraordinary it was. Something had shifted with this set of music, something had been lit. For Emma, Forever Ago broke open that fantastic dream into a reality. And before the harness could be thrown over that realized dream, Bon Iver, Bon Iver cemented its animation.