Bon Iver
Blood Bank

Behind a deliberately ungrammatical greeting hides Justin Vernon, a blond giant from Eau Claire, a small county in Wisconsin awarded in 2007 as one of the hundred best communities for young people. From boredom, considering that these prizes are never by chance, it seems that even Eau Claire wants to escape to Canada.

It was 2007 when "For Emma, Forever Ago" knocked at my door. One of those albums you don't expect, played by the fireplace while it's snowing outside, tiptoeing on a creaky floor. One of those albums that satisfies, but doesn't complete, leaving you contemplating the continuation of a story that's inevitably over.

The two physiological years have passed, I was expecting an album, it was reasonable to expect it, and yet, no. Bon Iver sends this visceral EP to the world: "Blood Bank", released by the shrewd Jagjaguwar, which now has among its ranks all the artists that capture my curiosity and my wallet (singular not by chance).

Four songs for not even seventeen minutes of music in which Justin changes course: more attention to song form, less falsetto and thus a partial renunciation of the two ingredients that most characterized the music and composition of those ballads that crumbled in the sun, made to be listened to in solitude.

I have found my new Neil Young, perhaps a bit more romantic and less of a romantic hero, but if these were the problems, I wouldn't even have a wallet.