Sufjan Stevens ‘The Age Of Adz’ // First Listen

Sufjan Stevens
‘The Age Of Adz’
(Asthmatic Kitty Records)

Following the release of his ‘All Delighted People’ EP, ‘The Age Of Adz’ is Sufjan Stevens’ first full-length collection of original songs since 2005’s ‘Illinois’. Following on from his 2003 album ‘Enjoy Your Rabbit’, this new release is an explosion of electronic sounds. That’s not to say he’s neglected his orchestral roots, ‘The Age Of Adz’ is heavily arranged with brass, strings, woodwind and choirs, as well as a smattering of hip hop influences. This mish mash of genres mirrors the album’s title, which refers to the apocalyptic art of a black, Louisiana-based sign-maker and self-proclaimed prophet who suffered from schizophrenia, and whose work depicts the artist’s bizarre dreams and visions of space aliens, futuristic automobiles, eccentric monsters and signs of the Last Judgment. As you can tell, it’s a pretty dense LP to sink your teeth into; Harriet Gibsone gives it a track by track run down. 

‘Futile Devices’
A fluttering guitar modestly introduces ‘The Age Of Adz’, as Sufjan’s lucid vocals resound, “It’s been a long, long time since I’ve memorized your face”. It’s not the massive departure we’d expected from this new LP, as this simplistic acoustic guitar led song gently floats along, whilst Stevens innocently coos “It’s been four hours now since I’ve wandered through your place/and when I sleep on your couch I feel very safe/And when you bring the blankets I cover up my face/I do love you”. Whilst a melancholy piano chimes, ‘Futile Devices’ feels like a song that didn’t quite make ‘Illinois’, with its touching simplicity akin to ‘John Wayne Gacy, Jr.’.

‘Too Much’
Compared to ‘Too Much’’s apocalyptic beginning, ‘Futile Devices’ now appears to be a gentle send off to the more tender side to Stevens. Setting off with the mechanical thuds and squelches that sound like a transformer walking across a wet landscape, a crooked hip hop beat jumps in and a glowing keyboard sound pulsates.  “There’s too much riding on that/There’s too much/There’s too much love” he staccato sings. Its eerie electronic sounds are undoubtedly ‘Idioteque’ inspired, but taken to another, higher plain, smattered with choral euphoria and epiphanic explosions before trumpets woozily guide the rest of the song along. Right before the end a cinematic flutter of flutes scatters onto the bizarre soundscape as if it were a twisted Disney score.

‘Age Of Adz’
Four solemn ‘Paranoid Android’-esque bleeps resonate before gargantuan orchestration fused with a bassy pounding breaks in, until the sounds subside and Sufjan sings “Well, I have known you for just a little while” in a pining, squirming Prince style. Lyrically it’s pretty cathartic, its heart racing impact aided by a choir who chant gloriously in huge dimensions reminiscent of Arcade Fire‘s ‘Wake Up’. The drum beat snaps and snares like a slowed down version of Mario’s ‘Let Me Love You’ before the title track suddenly strips back and exposes just Sufjan and a pattering guitar.

‘I Walked’
The first song to be unveiled from the new album as a digital teaser, ‘I Walked’ starts off with a simple beat whilst Sufjan’s repentant vocals bounce over the top, pleading with some higher force. The song gently pulsates until a celestial choir resonates as Sufjan questions, “Lover will you look form me now?/I’m already dead/But I’ve come to explain/I went crazy/I was wild”.

‘Now That I’m Older’
Otherworldly vocals cascade into your ears before Sufjan’s voice drafts in and you hear him wail like Thom Yorke at the end of ‘The Eraser’. “I wasn’t over you” he sings, as a miasma of ethereal vocals wrap cross each other like the soundtrack to a surreal dream. A distant harp is plucked, as the repentant Stevens repeats “Now that I’m older” until the song’s close.

‘Get Real Get Right’
A menacing pounding sound resonates as it if were produced by Spank Rock “I know you want it/I know you really want to get it right” Sufjan sings as a swarm of flickering flutes clutter the soundscape. The chorus booms out joyously with an almost Glee-like sentiment as Sufjan instructs you to “do yourself a favour” whilst the horn section parades as if plucked from ‘Volta’ era Bjork.

‘Bad Communication’
“I know you won’t listen to me” insists whilst cosmic bleeps whirr until a female vocalist resounds underneath. His ethereal voice wavers before he daintily whispers “I love you”. A slow building song that never really peaks, its earnest tenderness drives the song along until its close, where a keyboard noise is made that we can only describe as resembling the sound of being beamed up into space.

‘Vesuvius’
A simple piano guides ‘Vesuvius’ into its kaleidoscopic barricade, “Vesuvius you are here/You are all I have” Sufjan pines. The minimal beats of a drum machine is met with the scratching sounds of a stylophone before he sings, “Vesuvius follow your heart follow the flame”, until a choir of recorders pipe up to join the vocoder and the drum machine. Its triumphant finale sounds like something out of a Flaming Lips song.

‘All For Myself’
The song trickles and sparkles with oriental instruments, whilst Sufjan exclaims how he “wants it all” for himself. You can here St. Vincent’s pure and mesmerising voice echo in the distance. The song reaches its ever erupting heights, before dipping down into a lilting vocal, wiry synth sounds and a bizarre fanfares.

‘I Want To Be Well’
The song kicks off with a quirky Architecture In Helsinki-styled beat guiding along chirps of “Ordinary people are everywhere you look/Everywhere you turn”. Touching on mental illness in an up-tempo, bizarrely bouncy way, the theme and erratic electronic sounds of ‘I Want To Be Well’ mirror much of of Montreal’s music. “I’m not fucking around” Sufjan warbles as the pace rises and crescendos into a mess of vocals until it drops into an exhausted slump of sounds.

‘Impossible Soul’
First it’s worth noting that this song lasts 25 minutes. 25 whole minutes. ‘Impossible Soul’ starts off like The Korgis’ ‘Everybody’s Got To Learn Sometime’, before glittering sounds chime and a jubilant chorus enters. The magic is broken when a bit of fret wankery begins on an electric guitar. The album ender has got bags of playground chants such as “No I do not want to be afraid!” The song then swoons into a Bond-like orchestration before droplets of electronic pinks smatter until the vocals fade out. That’s until an unexpected vocoder pipes up and Sufjan’s voice starts to slip out like T-Pain. Underneath, a body of gasping voices pulsates and the song evolves into a stomping hip hop stomp as the pace picks up and the choir exaltedly blares. The song subsides momentarily until Sufjan and a guitar dainty wave off the album; its sound almost coming full circle before Sufjan sighs “boy we made such a mess together”.