At the Tower, Bon Iver shows that less can be more

At the risk of sounding like the 21st century equivalent of the guy who booed Dylan at Newport for going electric, I should disclose up front that I am not a fan of the super-dense seven-layer cake of sound of Bon Iver's new self-titled album, though not for lack of trying. For me, the beatific, naked-bulb bedroom folk of 2008's For Emma, Forever Ago remains definitive proof that less is more. Bon Iver mainman Justin Vernon is in full possession of the most heartbreakingly beautiful falsetto to emanate from a hairy guy in blue jeans and flannel since Neil Young woke up in a burned-out building with a full moon in his eyes. So why hide it under a bushel?

The most awe-inspiring, shiver-inducing moment of Bon Iver's sold-out concert at the Tower on Wednesday night came when Vernon performed the opening verse of Emma's "Flume" all by his lonesome, before his ridiculously large eight-piece band - two guitars, bass, violin, trombone, bassoon, keyboards and not one but two complete drum kits - joined in on the chorus, adding volume and density while subtracting all the intimacy.

The second most awe-inspiring moment was when the band exited the stage and Vernon delivered a wrenching, incantatory reading of "Re: Stacks." And the third came at the very end, during the last of a three-song encore, when the band laid down their instruments and, arrayed behind Vernon, who was seated and plucking out a righteous "Skinny Love" on acoustic guitar, chimed in on the choruses and kept time with hand claps.

Let the record show that I was most assuredly in the minority at the Tower, where even the mere invocation of song titles from the new album drew thunderous applause and cheers. Admittedly, there were moments - notably, the rafter-shaking encore of "The Wolves (Act I and II)," wherein the audience was encouraged to howl along with the song's towering noise-rock outro - when might made right, when the sheer volume and heft of such a large band gave the songs an impressive muscularity. But too often, especially during the first half of Wednesday night's performance, the songs sounded hectic, distracted and smothered in texture and bombast, and as a result oddly dated, like an old Peter Gabriel album nobody bothers to listen to anymore.