I have a lot of empathy for those who continue to have to weather a story foisted upon them long after that story was first told. Justin Vernon, in nearly every report on Bon Iver, Volcano Choir, or anything else he’s attached to, will seemingly forever be attached to the time he went to a cabin in the woods and made a really great album almost two decades ago (try not to think about that passage of time). SABLE, fABLE is the reclamation of a narrative. The first three songs — released months before the rest of the album — act as neither clearinghouse or obligation. Instead, the sparse folk centers his gorgeous, ghostly voice and uncharacteristically confessional lyrics. Most bracing of which is “S P E Y S I D E,” a song about taking a long hard look at a legacy and coming up with emptiness and self-loathing. But as the sparseness continues, so does the building, and by the time “Short Story” and “Everything Is Peaceful Love” kick the door open to fABLE we collectively are shoved out into the light. A raw nerve experiencing joy, sex (“Walk Home”), the clarity of accountability (“Day One”), understanding of limitations (“If Only I Could Wait”), and acceptance of one’s self in the universe (“There’s A Rhythmn”). All the while the music is lush RnB and pop, all electric pianos, strings real and fake, pedal steel guitar, drum machines, and amazing showcases for Jenn Wasner (Flock of Dimes/Wye Oak) and Danielle Haim (Haim). The path out of a dark room is not easy but damn if it isn’t beautifully worth it.