Sufjan Stevens is cool.

I'd love to tell my real-time friends that in person, but unfortunately, I don't know how to pronounce this guy's name. Soof-yan? Soof-john? Whatever. I'll just stick with telling you virtual internet people about him. That spreads the word more effectively anyway.

Sufjan Stevens is one of those guys who works within the world of folk music, but who doesn't confine it to the repetitive droning of one guy and a few simple guitar chords, or beef everything up with pop production for mass consumption. He just does what he likes, keeping a very "indie" attitude as he takes a variety of instrumental flavors and arranges them in often minimalist ways, allowing the music to serve the song instead of burying it. While he will sometimes pile on elements for more of a cluttered, grandiose feel, he also doesn't mind the stark, acoustic guitar based ballad. But Sufjan's favorite instrument is actually the banjo, and while past efforts such as the ode to his home state Michigan (supposedly the first in a series of 50 records about the good old U. S. of A.) have found him experimenting with an array of different instruments, his latest record Seven Swans finds him returning to his apparent first love.

I guess it could be said that Seven Swans is also a return to Sufjan's first love in a spiritual sense. You see, this guy belongs to a rare breed of artists who can address the Christian faith openly in his songwriting without losing his artistic touch or critical acclaim. Not to say that God was completely absent from past recordings - but here, God is the theme. That doesn't come at the expense of originality and songwriting that requires careful listening, though - Seven Swans has everything from creative takes on Bible stories, to warm reflections on human relationships (especially familial ones), to strange, experimental tunes. And somehow, it works to speak of God and Jesus openly in such an environment, better than it often does to do it in, say, a trendy modern rock environment, where it can seem like you're just trying to sound cool so you can get people's attention and convert them. In a folk music setting, there's a strong air of storytelling, whether it's straightforward or cryptic, and you'll find that people are more likely to want to get lost in such a world, even if they feel that the story is fictional. I guess there are two schools of thought in faith-based songwriting - one dictates that the message trumps everything else, and you must write in such a way that forcefully grabs attention, isn't too hard to understand, and delivers truth whether the recipient likes it or not - and the other simply says, "Be yourself, be honest, be creative, and people will respect you for that even if they disagree with you." But doesn't artistic language communicate in more beautiful ways than the deadpan, straightforward stuff? Wouldn't we rather watch Lord of the Rings and root for the good guys who sacrifice all to go on their quest to fight evil and who stick their necks out for their friends instead of just hearing someone spout off facts to us about how virtuous is it to battle against ideas that are harmful to the human race of to lay down one's life for one's friends?

Sufjan seems to think so. And listening to his music, while it can sometimes lapse into more ordinary moments where the songs are tough to tell apart, is ultimately an intriguing experience that makes me wonder if I've just been reacquainted with a long-lost brother.

All the Trees of the Field Will Clap Their Hands
Opening the album in fine fashion, some careful banjo plucking mulls over four chords again and again, as we first hear Sufjan's understated but earnest voice asking the strange question, "If I am alive this time next year, will I have arrived in time to share?" Taking its title from a bit of Biblical imagery that describes nature erupting into a chorus of praise when man is too silent or scared to do so, this song seems to put more of an eerie spin on that concept than the average praise song which references it. The fact that the same four chords repeat through the entire song, while that makes it seem a bit longer than it is, creates a sense of foreboding, as if you're walking through a forest and the trees are literally moving around you. Piano, light drums, and deadpan female vocals (likely contributed by one or more members of the avant-garde Danielson Famile, whose front man Daniel Smith produced the record) are added gradually, eventually becoming an overwhelming force that dominates the song until it comes to an unresolved halt.

The Dress Looks Nice on You
This is one of those songs that appeals to more conventional folk tastes - it's certainly one of my favorites with its nimble acoustic guitar picking and bright banjo interludes. It's a short but sweet ode to a woman whose relationship to Sufjan is undefined, but whom he admires as he keeps reminding her, "I can see a lot of life in you". It sounds like a simple love song, but it could just as easily be a father calming his daughter's fears as she tries on her wedding dress - who knows? There's a weird organ solo in the middle of the song that doesn't quite seem like it fits, but that's probably just Sufjan's desire to break from the traditional folk song manifesting itself in a different way.

In the Devil's Territory
The third tracks takes Sufjan's banjo playing and interestingly merges it with a bit of electronic sensibility - the banjo echoes in a weird way as he picks out a measured rhythm of 3/4, and these strange electronic pulses break into the song every now and then, like radio signals floating off into space. It's a good minute or so before Sufjan begins to sing, and when he does, it's as cryptic as ever, making mention of stealing his father's shoes and things like that. The refrain, during which Sufjan holds his higher notes in a sort of hushed falsetto that seems to be one of his trademarks, simply repeats, "To see you, to meet you". Whether he's talking about meeting God, the devil, or his likely angry father is unclear - this is definitely an intriguing piece that warrants more careful listening.

To Be Alone with You
Here, Sufjan reverts to as basic of a structure as he can, strumming out a simple, syncopated rhythm on his acoustic guitar, which backs a bright, reverent song of gratitude to Christ. He states very simply that he would do outrageous things like "swim across Lake Michigan" in order to find a place of solitude and prayer, "to be alone with You", and then he acknowledges that Christ actually did the extreme thing, He gave His body and went up on that tree "to be alone with me". It might be slightly confusing to someone who wasn't aware of the Christian context, since Christ isn't mentioned by name and Sufjan simply says "I've never known a man who loved me", but listening to the rest of the album should make it abundantly clear. While Sufjan doesn't operate within the Christian music industry at all (why restrict your music to such an audience when it would only try to stifle your creativity?), I can see a song like this resonating with the same people who connected with Third Day's "Love Song" or Jars of Clay's "Love Song for a Savior".

Abraham
A very hushed, finger-picked song with lots of empty space between the notes and words appears here, communicating the Biblical story of Abraham and his son Isaac in abstract terms. The song is really more of a painting than an explanation - God's request that Abraham sacrifice his long-awaited son is not an easily understood one, and Sufjan seems content to make reference to it rather than cramming a full Bible study into a song. It's a stark but lovely piece that may or may not relate thematically to some of the songs around it - to figure that out would require a little more deciphering on my part.

Sister
I must say that this song sticks out like a sore thumb - it's the lone rock song on an album otherwise described as folk. It kicks off with languid drumming, beating out a comfortable shuffle (once again in 3/4 time), and an electric guitar comes in, playing a solo that sounds relaxed at first, but that gets noisier and more spazzed-out over the course of about four minutes, as eerie, nasal-sounding vocals are overlaid and looped back upon themselves - this has got to be a moment of Danielson Famile influence. Eventually, when the noise threatens to get overbearing, it backs off and Sufjan delivers the actual lyrics of the song in acoustic coda, rife with strange mentions of things like having a bottle full of his own teeth and having a sister "somewhere in Detroit". To be honest, the song sounds like it might have been a leftover from his Greetings from Michigan project. It's intriguing, but a six-minute divergence from the overall style and mood of the album feels like a bit of a misstep.

Size Too Small
I'm starting to think I might have been on to something with my wedding interpretation for "The Dress Looks Nice on You", because we've got another wedding story here in the form of a simple acoustic song, and this time it's about the groom's side of the party. Sufjan is playing the role of the best man, and amusingly enough, he's wearing an old tux that's too small for him. It sounds like one of those "slice of life" songs where Sufjan is saying that even though things didn't exactly go off without a hitch and he probably looks like a buffoon standing up there next o his friend, he still loves his friend and is happy to see him getting hitched, and that's what really matters. Part of me wonders if the wedding thing is supposed to be an allegory, given the religious language elsewhere on the album, but it's still too early for me to speculate on that in depth.

We Won't Need Legs to Stand
I think Sufjan has a thing for 3/4 time. A lot of folksy types do. It definitely works for me, because the banjo plucks that rhythm here in a way that reminds me of a gentle, backwoods waterfall. The title of this song seems to hint at an apocalyptic vision like something you might see in the book of Revelation - the idea that upon the return of Jesus, our resurrected bodies will take on a very different form, hence the thing about not needing legs. This one goes by pretty quickly with its 2:16 running time, but it gives interesting visions of a different world in that short period of time.

A Good Man Is Hard to Find
This song starts off acoustic and turns into more of a folk/rock thing, with some interesting rhythmic work on the drums and neat little electric guitar runs. Most interesting of all, it sustains a 5/8 rhythm throughout. That's a tough rhythm to make your lyrics fit into, but to Sufjan's credit, he makes the song flow perfectly, never sounding like he's trying to cram in words where they don't belong. Regarding meaning, I honestly couldn't tell you - this might be the most baffling piece on the record outside of "Sister". Not having the lyrics in front of me admittedly makes that even more of a challenge (why oh why can I not find them on your web page, Sufjan?), so in a shocking move, I'm not even gonna take a stab at deciphering this one.

He Woke Me Up Again
"Halle, halle, hallelujah." Who would've thought that such a refrain could be so catchy? Sufjan creates a celebrative song around it here, starting with another delightful banjo riff and allowing drums and a rather insistent organ to take over the song once the chorus kicks in. It's one of the more joyful and upbeat moments on the disc, and once again Sufjan seems to be in reflective mode, fondly recalling childhood days when his father would wake him up for church. Again, this might be allegorical (it reminds me of Andrew Peterson's "Rise and Shine", and man, I'd love to see what two guys like Andrew and Sufjan could come up with together!), but whatever the case, it's a definite bright spot.

Seven Swans
Here's the show stopper, folks. It might sound like Sufjan's typical style at first, since it's a minimalist piece at first, built around more banjo plucking. But listen to the lyrics. Depsite the calm musical demeanor, you'll soon realize that Sufjan is recounting a horrifying dream in which the world is overcome by fire and he has to watch his house, his possessions, even his family members, succumb to the flames. There's definitely some Biblical imagery here, and I wouldn't be surprised if this was meant to be a paraphrase on some of the apocalyptic language of Revelation. Despite the occasionally disturbing depictions (they're not really graphic or anything, but I suppose it could be scary if you're the type to visualize things like I do), there's a sense of peace as piano and drums are added in and the song builds to a strong finale with Sufjan singing, "He will take You, if You run, He will chase you". He commented in an interview that this picture of God as less of a stalker and more of someone who chases out of love, and I guess he's trying to reconcile the disparate visions of God's vengeance and God's love. Either way, the sense of fear and trembling before God is communicated well in the otherworldly chorus of "He is the Lord!" that finds Sufjan jumping into his falsetto range at the end of the song. Pretty trippy, and also the highlight of the album.

The Transfiguration
It might seem strange to even bother having a closing song after the eerie climax of the title track, but Sufjan chooses to go the more easygoing round and end the album with another Bible story - this time he's talking about an incident when Jesus took a few of His disciples up to a mountaintop, and the figures of Moses and Elijah appeard before them. Sufjan's choice of instrumentation here is interesting - he starts with a banjo, once again playing in 3/4 time, and there are handclaps on 2 and 3. Later on, brass instruments join the fray, and they may well be French horns, but given the Danielson influence, it wouldn't surprise me if there were some car horns in there as well. Either way, it erupts into a lively sing-along which brings the album to an abrupt end. What the significance of this song is after the last one, I'm not sure, but one line seems to resonate in my mind amidst all of these supernatural going-on: "Have no fear." It's an interesting response after the frightening vision that came before it, but I like that Sufjan is grappling with the dichotomy of fearing God in the sense of respect, while not fearing God in the sense of anticipating love and forgiveness instead of harsh punishment.

Weird that an album can get that religious on you and still be artistically admirable and receive high critical marks, eh? I guess I can't guarantee that everyone liked it, but I know that as a Christian, I tend to shy away from a lot of songs that explicitly discuss Jesus, because 9 times out of 10, the artist seems to think that creativity has to be compromised in favor of the same Christianese language we've heard time and time again. Sufjan, however, seems to prefer compiling whatever words come to mind, and he also doesn't seem worried about leaving questions hanging in the air or hinting at the mysterious nature of God's character. I think such things will make an artistic effort like Seven Swans seem like more of a religious experience even if you're not actually religious, simply because you're dealing with something that the storyteller doesn't feel like he can totally explain. There's a wonder there, a mystery, and isn't that what matters of faith are all about?

ALBUM WORTH:
All the Trees of the Field Will Clap Their Hands $1
The Dress Looks Nice on You $2
In the Devil's Territory $1.50
To Be Alone with You $1
Abraham $1
Sister $.50
Size Too Small $.50
We Won't Need Legs to Stand $1
A Good Man Is Hard to Find $1.50
He Woke Me Up Again $1.50
Seven Swans $2
The Transfiguration $1.50
TOTAL: $15

CONCLUSION: Seven Swans has been one of my more pleasant surprises in the year 2004, which has been an overall disappointing year for music so far. If you're into more independently-minded modern folk music, or you just like music with an air of mystery about it, then I'd recommend checking this one out.

Website: http://www.sufjan.com

Recommended: Yes

Great Music to Play While: Reading or Studying