Album: Seven Swans
All the Trees of the Field Will Clap Their Hands
I'm never quite sure how to describe Sufjan Stevens' music. It's beautiful (Concerning the UFO Sighting Near Highland) but can be quite disconcerting, it's light-hearted but occasionally deathly serious (John Wayne Gacy, Jr.), it's high-brow but down to earth. It's a study in contradiction. And I love it.
If you had asked me two years ago who my favorite musician was, I would have responded "Sufjan Stevens" without even a moment's hesitation. At the time, I was immersed in his brilliant second album, Seven Swans. I simply couldn't get enough of his quirky, haunting, playful (Decatur) music. In retrospect, my fervor was understandable. (Even if I do say so myself.) I mean, there's just so much to listen to. The musical textures, for example, are one moment full and luscious (Come On! Feel the Illinoise!), and the next skeletally spare (Flint: For the Unemployed and Underpaid). Stevens alternates between square and asymmetrical time signatures, and he has a keen ear for orchestration, including such un-rock-like instruments as the oboe, trumpet, French horn, trombone, banjo and a wide variety of percussive instruments. His harmonic palette is equally rich; he is refreshingly unafraid of dissonance. He has a poet's ear for language and imagery. He's an excellent story teller (Casimir Pulanski Day). All in all, he's the real deal.Hmmm. Jeez. I haven't done Sufjan Stevens justice at all. I've reworked the above two paragraphs more times than I care to mention, but the more I try to define precisely what it is I like about his music, the more elusive the definition becomes. Frustrating. I think it's because his music means far more to me than the sum of its technical parts. I guess the best I can do is to say that his music speaks to me clearly, that I hear in it the calm center of a swirling vortex, and that he makes me believe in the promise of joy and hope in even the bleakest situations. I've never heard anything quite like it.
Oh, and his name is Persian and means "comes with a sword." It was given to him by the founder of Subud, an inter-faith religious community to which his parents belonged at the time. And his live shows are as much performance art as anything else; story-telling is an important component, and for a while he wore gigantic multi-colored wings on stage (He Woke Me Up Again).
An interesting cat. Enjoy.
Two years ago he was your favourite musician? Why the change of heart? John Wayne Gacy Jr. was delightfully disturbing. But David, it's Friday, I thought you were going to pick up the pace with something a little more less folky. Not that I'm complaining at all. I enjoy Surfin' Stevens as much as the next cat, but the weekend is about to start. Time to party.
ReplyDeleteYou got it.
ReplyDeleteI agree with the part about him being high-brow but also down to earth, but less so with the part about it being a contradiction. I'd say he's actually one of a growing but disparate number of indie+folk artists that refuse to lower the bar, no matter what. Not least of whom, I'd say, is your other namesake.
ReplyDeleteHe still is a contradiction, and will never not be unique. But there's more of him out there. (I know, because, if there wasn't, Sufjan would be all I'd really listen to. :-P)