MUSIC - Sufjan Stevens - Seven Swans

Score: 8.8

Label: New Jerusalem Music

The play Sufjan Stevens makes between genres is one of the central reasons his music is so effective. His voice and core instruments scream of simple folk songs, but just when you can have him pegged down in that regard, he pulls out a six person chorus and huge brass instrumentation to drown you in a distinctly non-folk-like melody. This bending of expectation is what made his two state-themed albums, Greetings from Michigan The Great Lake State, and Come on Feel the Illinoise, so varied and enjoyable to listen to. It comes as no surprise then, that this album, an outright and self-consciously religious collection of songs, does not have nearly the variation or desire to work around the boundaries of folk music - instead it feels quite happy working within them. In fact if St. Francis of Assisi were alive today, he would probably listen to albums just like these - simple, striped down and hymnal to their very core, in praise and admiration of the Christian God - an ascetics' off-pop collection that reaffirms everything everybody thinks about religion anyway.

If there is one praise/perjury that can be leveled against this album, it is that it largely sounds the same throughout. There is a guitar or banjo, there is Stevens singing, and there are lyrics in some way or form about God. It may sound daunting and boring to the secular amongst us, but it really isn't, because the beauty of the songs isn't limited (or really enhanced in most cases) by the lyrical content - you could replace the vocals with humanist lyrics and it wouldn't change the quality of the songs either positively or negatively. Because those guitar and banjo pieces are simple and catchy, and the singing is equally so, and each song is just different enough that fans of Stevens or folk more broadly will pick up the subtleties and enjoy them.

The first three tracks of the album are good examples, in that they highlight the repetition of instrumentation used to full effect, paving way for the vocals to soothe and relax the listener, and not asking too much of them in the process either. In fact that could be said of much of the album, in that it relaxedly goes about its business, and it is approachable in varying degrees, from background music to deeply personal tributes that could bring you to tears.

By the time "To Be Alone With You" comes around though, Stevens turns it up a notch, working off of the calm of the early songs and beginning his play with God as the central subject of all the songs. Though it could be claimed the ambiguity of this track is under-utilized by Stevens, others might say it is overused, and so I'll leave the point mum for the most part. This track is undoubtedly well proportioned though, and whether sweet ode to a young lover or a testament to God, it is a beautiful song nonetheless.

Then comes "Abraham" a song so nauseatingly well-thought-out, perfectly executed and simply brilliant, it is a shame only in that I did not hear it earlier. Similarly "Sister" is a well-needed alteration of the path the album takes and another excellently conceived piece. The electric guitar, overdriven just perfectly, still manages to be reflective and melodic, even during its coarser moments, and the swift change of pace into acoustic ditty is perfectly spaced, and gorgeous in its own right.

After these two highlights though, the album does take a bit of a detour, as the trio of "Size Too Small", "We Won't Need Legs To Stand", and "A Good Man Is Hard To Find" are all oft-putting at certain moments, the vocal and musical tracks seeming to compete with one another a bit more than is common in Stevens' best. Not to say that they aren't good songs, but they simply don't gel in one way or another the way the rest of the album does. Whether its an odd key, strange backing vocals or something else, the songs grate a bit quicker than they probably should.

Immediately following that though is the classic "He Woke Me Up Again", yes, blatantly about God, but again, not detrimental for it in any way. Simply another perfect song, the banjo rings off in time with the praise which Stevens works up to, and again and again the song proves that lyrics are only part of the equation.

After all this we finally arrive at the title track, which begins similarly to everything else on the album, but then in the last third the piano, the organ the cymbals and and "The Lord" all enter and take it to another level entirely. That level could be alternatively read as too much, just enough, or perhaps not enough, and even in the context of this album, it is tough to say. The lead up is ambiguous enough, but then Stevens' voice starts pleading, and it loses a lot of its charm when it does so. Then everything is blown wide open, and the undercurrent of latin hymnal praise is brought to full fruition, to what result is up to your own point of view, really. Personally I think it is a questionable choice that didn't turn out as well as it could have. The choice of notes simply make me afraid of this "Lord" not in awe of him. But that could be just me. In either case it's another noteworthy track.

Then comes "The Transfiguration". Having given up any hint of secularism, the lyrics are as in-your-face as a talking, burning bush would be. The music itself is highly reminiscent of something that may have eventually made its way onto Illinois, with the light horns and the movement of the instrumental melodies constantly upward, in a soft, pleasing manner.

And though I can't rate this album as highly as Illinois, it has its own charm and anyone who likes anything Stevens has done should check it out, if for those few well-placed tracks alone. And for those of you who are religiously inclined, I can't help but think that this album would be Franciscan monk approved. For it is, as other reviewers have said, quietly beautiful; not full of over-the-top noise. But a softly sung hymn that is more personal, if perhaps less personable.