[Online Exclusive]: Soundbites: Sufjan Stevens
By Alfred Lee
July 30, 2006 9:00 p.m.
“The Avalanche”
Sufjan Stevens
ASTHMATIC KITTY RECORDS
(Out Of 5)
If you haven’t already jumped off the Sufjan Stevens
bandwagon, there isn’t a better time than now.
It’s been more than a year since the release of
Stevens’ fifth album, “Illinois,” ““ an
album that received more critical acclaim than just about any other
last year, and was endlessly talked about ““ which means indie
kids have long played it to death and moved on (to Clap Your Hands
Say Yeah, then Wolf Parade, then Destroyer, now TV on the
Radio).
The hype, combined with the otherwise great record’s
sprawling, pretentious and therefore relatively unlistenable nature
(and the fact that he sounds like a girl) led to Sufjan overkill a
while ago.
None of this makes his latest release, “The
Avalanche,” a particularly good idea. The album is a
collection of outtakes from “Illinois,” which was
already several songs too long, and the last thing anyone needs
right now are 20 more. Taken on their own merit, however, they
serve as a testament to the prolific singer-songwriter’s
undeniable gifts.
The first thing one notices about “The Avalanche” is
that it feels considerably looser and less affected than his
“real” efforts, which can at times feel
claustrophobically crafted.
In fact, this is almost the only positive first impression of
the album, because most of the opening songs are instantly
forgettable. The title track kicks things off on a promising note
““ it’s one of those Sufjan winners that starts slow and
pretty, all acoustic picking and piano, before the chorus builds
with more and more singers and instruments up to an evocative and
satisfying finish.
This is immediately followed by the banal and repetitive
“Dear Mr. Supercomputer,” which basically sounds like
the same uninspired verse over and over again with different and
equally uninspired instrumental ideas behind it, and the even more
banal and repetitive “Adlai Stevenson,” an entire song
based around an eight-note snatch of a melody.
It is not until “The Henney Buggy Band” that the
album begins to string together songs that do more than repeat one
basic idea. Stevens’ formula has yet to get very complicated,
and anytime he manages to harness his gift for delicate,
aesthetically pleasing melodies and instrumental arrangements and
stick naturally transitioning parts together in one song, the
result both tugs on our emotions and takes us somewhere utterly
unique with its whimsy.
Despite the songs here that succeed in this ““ “The
Mistress Witch from McClure,” “Saul Bellow,”
“Pittsfield,” and an adult contemporary version of
“Chicago,” to name more or less all of them ““
there is ultimately too much filler and throwaway ideas on the
album to hold up to Stevens’ other output.
However, though it unsurprisingly may not touch his previous
heights, “The Avalanche” is, if anything, proof that
Stevens can still poop out a better song than anything by the James
Blunts of the world.
