When I first heard For Emma, Forever Ago, I was a folk singer. And most of my inspiration came from the old country of Johnny Cash and Emmylou Harris, as well as the humble figerpickings of Sufjan Stevens and Damien Rice. But I was listening to so much else–Radiohead, Sigur Ros, mewithoutYou–but my musical pallet didn’t have room for too much outside of an acoustic guitar, harmonica, banjo, voice, and occasional trumpet or drum set.

Then I heard Bon Iver.

It was a folk record, but it was so much more. There was an ambience to it that transcended folk music, reaching into the tape loops of psychedelia, the crashing cymbals of noise-rock, the reverbs of post rock, and even (occasionally) the autotune of R&B.

And Justin Vernon, the man behind the pseudonym, doesn’t sing with the wryness of Dylan or the defeatedness of Conor Oberst, but the lightness of voice and heaviness of heart of a soul singer, multi-tracking himself into a choir. The emotiveness of his delivery is such that it can turn the most absurd or obtuse lyric heartbreaking. It feels even shorter than its 37 minutes, begging to be flipped over and played again.