Friday, August 24, 2007

Parenthetical journeys through Sufjan

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So I think I'm obsessed with Sufjan Stevens. Maybe it's the fact that when I open up iTunes, it's the only word that starts with "sufj," and therefore very easy to search for, eliminating SO many extra keystrokes. And as we all know, every single keystroke puts us all that much closer to carpal tunnel syndrome, forcing us all to buy those ugly tan or black wrist braces, a herd of Americans with the inability to give the world a proper wave of the hand. A sad sight, for sure. And now for a hop, skip, and a jump back off the rabbit trail, onto the unsteady ground of the path I've chosen for this particular piece of literary mastery. ONWARD TO SUFJAN!

I'll admit that the first I herad of Sufjan was a bit narrow, a cloistered collection of chords and choruses crammed into cramped quarters (be sure not to pronounce quarters like "kwarters" like so many old people love to do, so as to keep the alliterative nature of the last phrase alive and well. This time around be sure it's said "korters" like any uneducated American would say... "Ouch, two mild digs on Americans in one Blog," he said as he dreamed of Canada and their silly Mounties, a possible epithet for the Canadian people. Forget calling them Canadians, lets call them all Mounties. Man, now a dig on Canada. Is there no safe North American country? And SO many parenthetical statements...) Okay, so the first person who showed me Mr. Stevens, to get back to the path yet again, was Rachel Lautaret, who showed me the songs that she loved the most on his Michigan album. The funny thing was, because she showed me only a few songs, I had no idea what else he wrote, and had a very myopic view of his lyricism and musicality. And, to be honest, the times I had been shown the music were very low times for me, depressed times, and therefore that music instantly became associated with a depressed state. (A lot of my friends are probably thinking, "WHICH time you were depressed, you sorry sack of, uh, something?" and to that I say touche.) I've found that when I'm depressed, I'd rather not listen to things that encourage such a state. For instance, the soundtrack for Schindler's List has found very little play time for me, despite its haunting beauty and beautiful solos by Itzhak Perlman. Some people I know play themselves sad music when they're sad, which seems to make sense, except most times I'd rather not wallow in my sadness, and would rather crawl out of the dark cave into which I so willing and headlongly dove. SO, he said emphatically trying to get back on track, I didn't listen to much Sufjan after my first exposure to it, until one day in June I had a random craving for it.

So, before I left for a month in Alaska, I bought "Michigan" off of iTunes. Since I really hadn't heard much of his music, aside from a few select tracks, it was really like listening to an entirely new album. From what I understand, most people (most people I know, that is) tend to look for lyrical goodness in the groups they listen to, which is why Cash and Dylan enjoyed such amazing success. However, I grew up playing band and orchestral music, growing a deep appreciation for, and a deep obsession with musical greatness. In fact, I think the only music group I listened to that even had lyrics was Dave Matthews Band. (Not until later did I realize that a large proportion of his music is a selection of veiled hormonal lyrics. He's kind of a dirty man, but he makes it sound so cool... dang it.) It wasn't until three or four years after I graduated from high school that I began to appreciate great lyrics. Anyway, all that to say that my main focus in all music is the music itself. How do they use meter, keys, rhythm, creative chording, layering, dynamics, and a whole slough of other things. I've also found that many many people hate complexity or creativity in their music, which drives me mad. I suppose that's why pop music enjoys so much success. I understand that there's a pretty big following of Sufjan, and listening to the lyrics, I know why. They're positively dripping with color and shadows of meaning, well thought out, and filled to the brim with gooey depth. But the music is good too! "Can it be?!" I may have thought to myself. "Is it possible?" He plays all his own instruments, from what I understand, which I both greatly appreciate, and moderately dislike. The only dislike, really, comes with his trumpet playing. Most people won't notice anything wrong with his trumpeting, but being a trumpet player, it has, on occasion, mildly irritated me in its roughness and inaccuracy. However, with each album he's gotten better, so that's good. So I was thrilled with "Michigan," and upon returning from Alaska I bought his "Illinois" and "The Avalanche" albums, both of which are truly works of art.

That's another thing I've had a problem with in modern music. The album as a whole has potential to be greater than the sum of its parts. Some groups have tried operatic approaches, giving a true storyline, characters, and theatrical elements to their albums, which is an admirable idea, but comes across as too obvious. The truly great albums, to my mind, are the ones that play like one great work, are tied together, but in a much more subtle way. In music, it's subtlety that's so much harder to approach, which is why it's so hard to find. I imagine it's a cross-media artistic challenge, how to communicate depth of ideas without the kick to the groin approach which is so much easier. Life in general is much more subtle than a series of punctuated events. I know in an EKG chart of my life, the spikes certainly stand out, but they don't effect everyday life much at all. It's the more level ground that shows motion and change, undoubtedly affected by the spiked important events, but not radically changed right away. Anyway, I see Sufjan's music as a bit of a replica of that life EKG chart. Always moving forward, always changing, punctuated with real brilliance, but not afraid to come off the high and tie it all together with something mellow. To my mind, it's one of the more popular artists where I've said to myself, "I like this, so why do other people like this? What is it that makes this type of creativity so much less offensive to people's ears than what I normally listen to?"

So I hope I will soon come off my Sufjan high, not because it's not worthy of so many listenings, but because I so many other great artists to listen to. So check him out if you haven't already. And don't be scared that I like him. He's good to other people too.

2 comments:

lori said...

DAYN. I am so glad to see you via yet another internet medium. Some crazy life this is, eh? By that I mean, keeping up with far-off friends without ever hearing their voices or seeing their actual hand-writing as in days of yore.

And yet. And yet, the far-off friends' "voices" and "hand-writing" come through loud and clear in the case of the first, and bright and clear in the case of the latter, despite it all.

Why? And it's because people aren't the exact vibrations that make up their utterings, and they aren't the curves and scriggles of their pen-or-pencil writings. Nay. They are themselves, which comes through just fine by typing.

So there you go.

lori said...

Shoot. I'd forgotten to post my actual comment:

Have you seen "A Family Movie" about Sufijan Stevens' mentor? It's an independent film. You must watch it right away.

We haven't seen it yet, but it looks good at the movie store.