Justin Vernon, known to Urban Outfitters shoppers around the world as the Bon Iver guy, recently said in an interview that he was likely done with his Bon Iver project. This raises the question: JUSTIN VERNON, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING, BRO?
In case you forgot, you have the sweetest fucking job in the world. Aside from Prince William, you lucked into the best possible life a balding 30-year-old white dude could ask for. Let’s break it down real quick.
You get to travel the world, playing massive venues packed to the brim with cute hipster chicks looking to get down on your Bone Iver. And then you play “Skinny Love” and the entire room’s humidity goes up from the audience collectively soaking through their polka dot rompers. If you wanted to, you could easily throw orgies where you are the default stud in a 1000-person fuckfest of Zooey Deschanel look alikes. In fact, you could probably just bang the real Zooey Deschanel if you wanted to. Actually, have you ever banged Zooey Deschanel? She was married to the dude from Death Cab For Cutie and your songs are like, a million times wussier than his!
What’s crazy is, these girls swoon so hard over you that anyone who’s never seen you would assume you must be some Gosling-level superhunk. But you’re not. You’re just an average-looking schlub in a suit that looks like something you inherited from your dead grandfather. You look like the dude who works at the fixed gear bike shop in Shoreditch. And yet, these ladies will pay £50 of their hard-earned Etsy money to come see you. Justin Vernon, you are the Pitchfork Wilt Chamberlain!
As if swimming in an endless sea of naked hipsterettes wasn’t enough, you also somehow managed to win a Grammy. Multiple Grammys, actually. One for best new artist and one for luckiest sonofabitch on Earth. Can you imagine how boring the music industry must’ve been that year to hand over two awards for your brand of inoffensive nap rock? When you showed up at the Grammys, were people like, “I’m sorry, sir, the convention for vegan coffee shop baristas and indie record store employees is down the street”?
You even tricked Kanye West into thinking you're cool, a feat only previously accomplished by Aziz Ansari. Just curious, did you notice any other pale guys from Wisconsin named Justin in Kanye’s crew? When you guys went out together, did people just assume you were there to sell Kanye weed?
Photo taken seconds before Justin Vernon was mercilessly beaten by Kanye's security guards.
Now you’re saying you can’t write any more Bon Iver songs because you’re “just not there”? To quote George Costanza, “You’re not in the mood? Well you get in the mood!” You are sitting on a hipster goldmine here, dude! You could walk into Portland and they’d probably crown you mayor and throw you a ticker tape parade.
What are you even planning on doing now that Bon Iver is over? Apparently, you’re working on some other project? Yeah, good luck with that. That move always goes over super well for musicians. Just call up Billy Corgan or Tom Delonge or Scott Weiland and ask them how much fans love side projects. Although, it might be hard to hear them over the sound of people not giving two shits.
You really need to "be in a specific headspace" to write new material? Honestly, how hard is it to slap a few more Bon Iver songs together? Just squeeze your balls and mumble some nonsense about making out in the woods over a mandolin or whatever the fuck you do. Here are a few free ones for you:
“Cemeteries on the mooooooon /Lovers inthemerschsennn make you swooon/ Tear the rain out in your hooooome. [bicycle bell rings]”
“Runnin’ out of your groowwooonennn sooound/ Woah woah woaaahh/ Seen from miles, miles, miles…[this echoes for 200 more times]”
“Oooooo and was I knew suurrrpannificent /Taaaaake your pick erstickemmmup. [nine minute ukelele solo]”
There you go. Three guaranteed hits that’ll get you back on SNL in no time. And that took all of what, 10 seconds? Shit, you could just record your last album backwards, slap a grainy photo of a pine tree on it, and release it as new material. No one would even notice and you’ll probably get the cover of Rolling Stone and an endorsement deal from Starbucks.
Not sure what you’re thinking here, Justin. Quitting Bon Iver is like when Superman went to the Fortress of Solitude to give up his super powers. Without it, you’re just some bearded dude in a flannel shirt. And guess what. There are already a few of those.
Follow Dan on Twitter @danozzi
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