Sufjan Stevens

I think I've been meaning to write about Sufjan ('soof-yon) for a really long time, but I haven't gotten around to it.  For me, writing a blog post is like writing a letter to someone-- if I don't feel like I have the time to do right and do it well, I procrastinate.  I think that I've never felt like I could do this post justice, so that's why it never happened.  That doesn't mean that I now think that I can do it justice, it rather means that I'm once again taking to heart the wise words of a writing professor I had at BYU: "Better done than good."

Sufjan Stevens is probably my favorite musician/music artist/singer/songwriter/music group/band/whatever you want to call it.  When someone asks me who my favorite band is, I say Sufjan Stevens.  To throw a label on him so as to provide clarity to people who like to know genres and stuff, I think my best effort is that he is progressive indie-folk.  Not that I actually know what those words even mean, but it sounds official.  Actually, the Wikipedia article on him states that "Stevens has released albums of varying styles" and that much is definitely true. Moving on.

I am Sufjan.

It wasn't always this way.  I remember not liking his music that much when I first heard it back in 2005.  Some of the music seemed a little silly and his soft voice wasn't macho enough for me.  Then again, up to that point the biggest musical influence in my life was New Model Army, which is anything but silly and anything but effeminate.  But things change as people change and experience different facets of life.

The change actually came on my mission, of all places.  My mission in Bulgaria did not have any hard and fast rules about what music you could listen to.  My trainer was just getting into Sufjan, and of all of his possible unorthodox music choices, I was okay with listening to Sufjan when we got home at the end of the day, and as we passed out at 10:30 PM.

An association slowly grew between Sufjan's music and the place, setting, and activity I was engaged in.  And it seemed to comfort and complement me in ways that I needed.  "Oh God, Where Are You Now?" gave voice to a growing feeling that I would need God's help desperately during the following months and years, and "For the Widows in Paradise" taught me to love the banjo, and the song's message resonated with the overall sadness of Bulgaria.

I came home from my mission, forever associating those songs with the special feelings of my first major overseas experience, one of the most important experiences of my life.  And as I listened to Sufjan more freely after my mission, I grew to love his quirky story-telling, his thoughtful lyrics, and both his extremely intricate sound as well as his occasional unobtrusive simplicity.

I feel like if I keep going on in the same vein I will take forever to write this post and it will be very cumbersome and long.  Suffice it to say, Sufjan has been there for me on some very difficult occasions.  He helped me through my first relationship and breakup.  He helped me through long nights where I struggled with motivation and depression.  He helped me stay awake as I wrote essays.  He was there when I had a near brush with personal tragedy-- when my nephew Jeffrey was born almost three months early.  In each case, there was always a song, always a story or a musical phrase that was there that helped me through.  And when Age of Adz came out, Sufjan's introspective, personal, fantastic voyage into new realms of sound and innovation, I felt like I was there for him, too.  I took a chance and bought the album that was drastically different, and it didn't let me down.

Fast forward to this past November.  Sufjan comes out with 58 new Christmas songs, the crowning jewel of which (in my opinion) is kind of a techno remix of "Do You Hear What I Hear?"  Sufjan's version is eight minutes long.  The first four minutes get you through the original set of lyrics, and at just about the four minute mark the song transitions into riffs and variations on a new phrase, this time: "Do you feel what I feel, now?"  The musical themes begin to weave together into an expression of longing for connection and empathy.  Sufjan just wants you to feel what he feels; he wants his human experience to be shared.  And I've just found that what Sufjan has to offer has mostly been beautiful, thoughtful, unique, and makes me happy.  That's been Sufjan's purpose all along.  To ask whether people are feeling what he is feeling, and to trust him to understand what they are feeling.  Whatever he's feeling, it's pretty awesome when he expresses it through music.  I will admit that it's not for everyone, and that is just fine.  I'm to the point where I love Sufjan's music because I've become acquainted with it personally, and it has special relevance to me.  Yeah, maybe "Christmas Unicorn" for a lot of people is just a dull, repetitive acid trip of a sound collage, but when I listen, I just want the record to keep skipping over and over and over.

Here's "Do You Hear What I Hear?" if you're interested.  Let me just state that I don't recommend it.  The only stuff that I recommend is what you can find in the states albums, Seven Swans, and the Avalanche.  And some of the Christmas stuff I guess.  It is the stuff that got me hooked before I grew to appreciate the rest of it for other reasons beyond mere aural appreciation.  But if you listen to the song and you get tingles when Sufjan sings, "do you feel what I feel?"... then you're also feeling what I feel.