Photos by Jentri Colello
“There’s a lot of uncertainty about how to live in… these times,” Justin Vernon, he of Bon Iver fame, said toward the end of a triumphant set closing the inaugural edition of his new summer festival, Eaux Claires. “But being here this weekend, I believe what’s important is us. Is there anything greater than us?” Since its announcement via some Michael Perry-narrated videos, Vernon’s Eaux Claires festival’s driving idea was that it would be different, more than just a festival. It would be booked not by a conglomerate of publicists and promoters, but by Vernon and his partners (including the National’s Aaron Dessner). It wouldn’t be a corporate sponsorship bonanza, featuring stages, backdrops and “experiences” sponsored by youth-oriented companies; it would instead feature almost exclusively local vendors. If you wanted a beer, it would be a Leinenkugel. If you wanted pizza, it would be Toppers. Festivalgoers were given doofy field journals, and carry-in policies were lax.
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But most importantly, Eaux Claires would finish the job Vernon started when For Emma, Forever Ago made him the most unlikely Wisconsin-born star since Les Paul. Through sheer force of will, Vernon has taken Eau Claire, Wisconsin, from maybe the fifth most important city in Wisconsin 10 years ago to its most culturally relevant. Thanks to his fame, there’s a nationally talked about Eau Claire music scene. He refused to move to New York or L.A., where he could have become fully consumed by the hype machine, but instead has a studio just outside of town where he records bands from around the world, and now, has started a music festival that boasted more than 40 bands over two days. Eau Claire might still seem unpronounceable to people from out-of-state, but now it’s the site of a major music festival that drew more than 20,000 people to a city that only has a population of 65,000.
Vernon’s time on stage wasn’t just limited to the now well-publicized closing set of the festival—where he debuted two new songs, one of which sounded like electro Steve Winwood—he was a spectral presence around the grounds, popping up to chip in on sets by Blind Boys of Alabama—who were great on day one—and the National—who were the worst thing I saw all weekend, and I say that as a person who owns three National albums—among others. Vernon’s presence was most felt in the lineup’s selection, as virtually every band was somehow connected to him. He either produced albums and songs for a lot of the bands that performed (Aero Flynn, Blind Boys, the Staves, others), they recorded at his studio (Low, Sufjan Stevens, etc), or were related somehow to his friend and counterpart in the Minneapolis music scene, Ryan Olson (Marijuana Deathsquads, Poliça, Lizzo). If not that, then he chose his favorites: he got the Indigo Girls to perform Swamp Ophelia—his favorite album—in full. I’m not sure a crowd that came to see Stevens or Doomtree were that aligned with seeing the Indigo Girls perform an album from 1994, but their inclusion on the lineup was as delightfully weird and enjoyable as Vernon intended it to be.
It’s hard not to see Eaux Claires as set up as opposition to Pitchfork Festival; it happened the same weekend, and you have to figure there is significant overlap between the potential audience for both fests. I’m sure there’s an interesting story in the arms race that went into booking Sufjan Stevens at Eaux Claires in a year when he put out the album that is all but ordained as the best indie rock album on Pitchfork’s year end countdown. The most interesting booking coup, though, was the inclusion of Spooky Black and Allan Kingdom, who performed with the rest of their Stand4rd brethren in a hot sweaty tent on day one.
Sufjan Stevens
Bon Iver was undoubtedly the reason people bought tickets to Eaux Claires, but I would bet Allan Kingdom and Spooky Black drew the most single act festival tickets purchases. I never saw a younger crowd than the people who turned out during their sets; I watched scene teens sprint towards Kindgom as soon as the beat dropped on “All Day.” Booking the Stand4rd was a coup for a first year fest; the assumption amongst olds who don’t spend their waking hours on Soundcloud is that groups like the Stand4rd are only popular URL, but Kingdom drew a big, enthusiastic crowd IRL who could shout along to choice cuts from last year’s Future Memoirs.
That big crowd was maintained until midway through Spooky Black’s set, when through willful force, he drove away all but the most loyal to his spacious R&B. Backed by a band he called the Vinegar Boys, Corbin—he apparently is dropping the “Spooky Black” name—spent the first ten minutes of his set directing the soundman on levels for his band, removing any sense that he’s a savant who lucked into internet stardom. Instead of delivering the hits like “Without You” he performed a slow, deliberate set, heavy on the atmospheric songs of loss that you wouldn’t think possible from a teenager. Dressed in basketball shorts and a t-shirt, like 75% of the overheated crowd, his deep, wounded voice is replicated perfectly live, and he spent the time in between songs cracking jokes about how he sunburns easily. He also played an acoustic guitar for part of his set, which means a Corbin emocore album is probably coming soon. Watching Corbin do a five-minute rock song called “Hot Dog” to close his set, you realize that this kid is nonplussed by the fame. He was making music and goofing off before he became a meme, and he’s going to do it after.
I don’t think I saw anything as riveting as watching Corbin strum an acoustic guitar and sing with that voice all weekend, but Sufjan Stevens’ set on Saturday came close. Drawing heavily from Carrie & Lowell and the now 10-year-old (!) Illinois album, Sufjan was often backed up by a full brass band as he laid bare the emotional core of both albums. But the true highlights were when he laid down some rare dadbod jazz synth solos on “Come On! Feel The Illinoise!” and “Chicago.” “Sufjan Stevens synth jazz” is probably on a lot of people’s least likely to listen to lists, but trust, it was lighter, more fun, and wilder than his music tends to be.
Bon Iver
But the undeniable highlight of day two was the aforementioned Bon Iver set. People always talk about seeing Wilco in Chicago, or Interpol in New York, but seeing Bon Iver in Eau Claire was something special. His songs have a lot of oblique references to Eau Claire scenery and buildings—the RCU building downtown, the woods that are part of the everyday milieu of Eau Claire—and hearing him sing those songs where he wrote them added an emotional resonance to his set. He opened with the most recent song he’s released—“Heavenly Father,” a song from a terrible Zach Braff movie—and closed with the two new songs and “Skinny Love,” which left a not inconsiderate percentage of the crowd with wet eyes. He spent the performance with headphones on, living in his own head, doing what he could to make his internal world our external one.
So the question remains: Was Eaux Claires different from other music festivals? Well, it was hot as hell both days—I literally fainted on day one from not drinking enough water (Makonnen was right)—and food lines stretched on as far as the eye could see. The crowd was robust and mostly well behaved, except for those who got too turnt (I saw someone bring a hammock in one day; that’s called leveling up your festival-going badass). The scenery was mind-blowingly beautiful—the Eaux Claires grounds are smack dab on the banks of the Chippewa River, with the stages surrounded on all sides by thick woods. The possible Instagram filters were vast and endless. And honestly, the organization of the thing was flawless; I never waited more than five minutes for a shuttle going or coming from the festival grounds to the outer parking lots around Eau Claire.
But ultimately, this thing was just a music festival. You have to appreciate the sheer force of will it took to pull it off, though. As someone who lives in Wisconsin, it’s hard not to gush over Vernon, the only famous local personality who has, instead of hightailing it for the coasts, worked hard to make people understand why this place is so special. He became convinced he could throw a better festival than anything out right now, and almost did. If he gets a second chance, maybe he will.
