Sufjan Stevens’ latest magnum opus is remarkably painful and refreshingly precise.
Genres: Folk, Singer-Songwriter, Electronica
Key Tracks: “A Running Start”, “Will Anybody Ever Love Me?”, “Shit Talk”
In a pocket of relative calm, between two euphoric instrumental sections on the song “So You Are Tired,” Sufjan Stevens lays out a strong statement: “Turning back all that we had in our life, while I return to death.” The track describes a fading relationship, and as Stevens stares down the inevitable end of that relationship, he makes a point to look backward and examine its highs and lows, deciding whether to keep or reject them. This song was the first single from Stevens’ 10th album Javelin, a record that blends folk sensibilities with electronic beats in a manner not unlike his contemporaries i.e. The National, Bon Iver, or Bright Eyes. It also follows nearly two decades of very diverse albums from Stevens, which represent in a way his relationship with his craft, evolving over time and happily not fading away. He first reached mass public consciousness with 2005’s Illinois, a broad, theatrical opera with heavy singer-songwriter elements that is generally agreed to be his most definitive work. Afterward, his albums got more experimental and less consistent in sound (2010’s Age of Adz was full-on electronica, while 2015’s Carrie and Lowell was stripped-back and folksy) while keeping the throughline of melancholic reflective songwriting and mellow vocals. To call his newest work a ‘return to form’ is no slight toward these very good albums, but more just a fact: Javelin is Sufjan Stevens at his very best, all of his most admirable qualities as a songwriter and producer distilled into 42 minutes and 10 tracks of pain, longing, and catharsis.
“Goodbye Evergreen” is a stunning opener, to say the least. Stevens’ voice is the first thing the listener hears on the record—he takes only a short breath before uttering the song’s melancholic refrain (“Goodbye evergreen, you know I loved you”). Over steady, shimmering piano keys, he sounds like he is just barely holding himself together, his shaky and wavering performance propped up only by ethereal backing vocals. A minute in, Stevens can no longer keep his composure. A wall of discordant electronic sound shatters his facade, transforming the track into something completely different (aside from the initial refrain still echoing in desperation). The embattled composition of “Goodbye Evergreen” sets up crucial parts of the rest of the album, including Stevens’ verses about loss and remembrance and the heavy presence of electronic beats in the production. However, it is not indicative of the album’s overall style, as the following tracks are more balanced and poised.
Stevens is no stranger to examining the feeling of yearning in his music, and on Javelin he has plenty to say on the topic. Atop a plucky acoustic guitar on “A Running Start,” Stevens draws upon fantastical imagery (“The silver moon / the water snake”) to relay the whimsical yet daunting experience of courtship. He begs his “lovely pantomime” not to leave and disrupt his fantasy. Meanwhile, “My Red Little Fox” has Stevens treating his lover with a form of reverence, almost commanding them: “kiss me with the fire of gods.” In “Will Anybody Ever Love Me?” Stevens’ yearning takes a disturbing turn, as he describes the more painful aspects of love (“Run me over, throw me over, cast me out”) and wonders if he will ever receive the kind of mutually beneficial love he truly desires. The subtle hi-hats throughout most of the song give it a bounce that almost disguises how dark it is.
Another key aspect of Javelin, found in many other Sufjan Stevens albums, is that of religion. Paired with the electronic washes of production, fragile vocals, and tight arrangements on songs like “Everything That Rises” and “Genuflecting Ghost,” Stevens’ cries to God feel more desperate than his quiet hymns on older work like Seven Swans. On the former track, with delicate drums pitter-pattering around his voice, he exclaims: “Can you come around before I go insane?” Lines like these are simple and hard-hitting, and it is remarkable how Stevens weaves them together into a rich lyrical tapestry.
Javelin arguably comes to its climax with its shortest and longest songs. The album’s title track is probably its least interesting sonically, clocking in at under two minutes without as much variation as other songs on the record. However, Stevens’ lyrical skills and brutal metaphors visualize his fears of hurting a partner, while the short nature of the song prevents it from dragging on too long. Meanwhile, “Shit Talk” is a nearly nine-minute-long opera featuring excellent guitar work from The National’s Bryce Dessner, heartbreaking repeated phrases (“I will always love you but I cannot look at you”) and a beautiful ambient outro that essentially serves as a comedown from the intensity of the rest of the record. “There’s a World” is a surprisingly calm ending to such an intense record, but its significance goes beyond that. The original Neil Young rendition is filled with sweeping strings and orchestral moments, not unlike some of Stevens’ most famous songs. Thus, his decision to cover the song and scale it down into a calming acoustic number is intriguing: do Young’s lyrics about appreciating the world and waiting for meaning provide a resolution to Stevens’ turmoil? Perhaps just as the song closes out a tumultuous record with an aura of calm, Stevens reckons with tumultuous periods of his life by putting them on record. The concept of putting one’s emotions into music is obviously nothing new, but considering the visceral listening experience of Javelin, Stevens has managed it masterfully.
A landmark album for an already well-celebrated and tenured songwriter, Javelin is definitely appropriately titled. Stevens, like an expert athlete, throws his bittersweet memories and regrets right through our hearts. Even as we feel his pain, we admire his precision.