The strange adventures of ‘Adz’
For the first few minutes of Sufjan Stevens new album The Age of
Adz (pronounced odds), nothing seems to be new
– it’s the same old Stevens. The opening track is a soft
acoustic jam that is like every other song from the folk
artist.
It’s beautiful, simple and really fantastic. The layers of
acoustic guitars and buoyancy of the quiet piano are soothed by the
cool but warm voice of Stevens. If the album consisted of songs in
the same direction I would have no complaints, but at the same
time, not much praises. An album full of
”
Futile Devices
”
would fit nicely in the tight controlled package of Illinois,
Michigan and Seven Swans.
The strange adventures of ‘Adz’
For the first few minutes of Sufjan Stevens new album The Age of Adz (pronounced odds), nothing seems to be new – it’s the same old Stevens. The opening track is a soft acoustic jam that is like every other song from the folk artist.
It’s beautiful, simple and really fantastic. The layers of acoustic guitars and buoyancy of the quiet piano are soothed by the cool but warm voice of Stevens. If the album consisted of songs in the same direction I would have no complaints, but at the same time, not much praises. An album full of “Futile Devices” would fit nicely in the tight controlled package of Illinois, Michigan and Seven Swans.
Luckily, though, it’s a tease for what’s to come.
From the first note of the next song, Stevens proclaims to expect the unexpected. Using an electronic undertone, Stevens quickly separates the album from his previous work.
The best thing about the album, though, is that those selected electronic sounds, which quickly take over the record, add to the orchestra sounds that Stevens is so good at. The new additions act as an enhancer instead of a detractor.
For most of his previous work, the biggest adjective was simply precious. Stevens found a niche of writing love and religious songs around a simple piano, guitar and banjo. He wasn’t controversial. He did nothing dramatic and out of left field. Every song and every album was carefully crafted and never broke from his core sound.
And he was good at it. He was almost considered a musical deity to a lot of his followers. He was beloved and could do little wrong.
But as Adz shows, five years of solitude and no new lyric-based albums can sure change a carefully crafted sound.
Stevens is mostly known for his decision to write an album based on each state in 2003 after releasing the first of the projects called Michigan. But in the preceding seven years only two such albums have been released. In 2009, Stevens admitted it was a marketing ploy and he was losing faith in the album concept.
So beyond the sound, the release of Adz is surprising simply because it exists. Unlike his previous albums, there is no central theme or narrative – as wild as the albums sounds are, so are its variety of themes.
Mostly, though, it sticks with life, death and love – not necessarily new subjects for Stevens but in a dramatically different tone.
And that difference starts with track two, “Too Much.”
“If I was a different man/ if I had blood in my eyes/ I could get rid of your heart/ I could rid you of your heart/ I am now lonely as that/ I put up a fight/ so pick up your battering ram/ I want to see it/ there is too much riding on that,” he sings to a gurgling drum and synth rhythm.
It’s a perfect introduction to the newly reborn Stevens. It’s crass, loud and in your face. It’s the song that he rids himself of the precious portrait he was painted and recreates himself.
And it’s that core sound that doesn’t relent through the album’s 75 minutes. The album even has points where dancing would be expected.
Only a few songs return to the classic Stevens – both are sweeping and gorgeous. Track five “Now That I’m Older” is supported by a background chorus that sings along with Stevens – to a tremendous, haunting result.
It’s a song about change and growing up – as the title suggests. In the context of the album it serves a barrier or break in between the relentless electro pulsating beat.
After comes the slow burning Vesuvius.
“Vesuvius, I am here/ you are all I have/ fire of fire/ I’m insecure for it is all/ been made to plan/ though I know,” Stevens sings.
It’s a song that can fit on any of Stevens’ album and not feel out of place, but it is distinctly an “Adz” song.
There is Stevens’ wonderful soothing voice; hymn sung in the background – elevating the music – and most of all, the electronic mess supporting it all. At the moment of the song’s first introduction, it’s the best song on the track until the finale.
The finale is the truest form of a spectacle. At a long, winding 25 minutes everything in music is thrown together and mixed around. There is a guitar solo, a chorus filled of happy voices, there is a defiant chant and also there is a prolonged section filled with auto-tune.
And it’s the auto-tune that makes or breaks not only the song but also the whole album. It’s stunning and out of nowhere, and it’s either brilliant or terrible. Sadly, after spending hours and days listening to the one song – I can’t decide.
The song, like the album, will have a definitive line of hate and love. It’s original – and for a musician that’s always a good thing.
