The Age of Adz

[I was asked to review Sufjan Stevens' newest album "The Age of Adz" for The Herald.  Well, really I asked if I could review it, and my editor saw the twinkle in my eye and said yes.  A typical review for The Herald is around 450-500 words, and for this, well, I wrote 1,274 words.  For the paper, it's going to be chopped down immensely, or perhaps not even allowed in at all.  Either way, the album is absolutely fantastic and incredibly inspiring, and I could've written even more than I did.  If you haven't listened yet, check out this review, and maybe you'll be convinced to go pick up the album.  I hope that you will.]

Starting with 2003’s Michigan, Sufjan Stevens kicked off his project of creating one album for every single one of the fifty United States.  In 2005, he released Come On, Feel the Illinoise!, which impeccably fuses real Illinois history, personal anecdotes and spiritual symbolism with catchy melodies and memorable rhymes.  He is considered part of the folk revival in indie pop, but his musical influences come from all over the musical spectrum.  In Illinoise! his musical compositional style featured eloquent string, brass and woodwind supplement, as well as a gorgeous choral backing.  The backing often follows to compliment Stevens, creating a lyrical delivery not unlike a call-and-response reading in a typical church service.  Stevens frequently fronts his musical ensemble with an acoustic guitar or a banjo, but in 2010’s The Age of Adz (his first proper studio album since he admitted his 50 states project was just a promotional gimmick), it’s the album’s adventurous electronic experimentation – and not the traditional plucking of strings – that takes center stage.

The introductory song on The Age of Adz, “Futile Devices,” is all guitar, piano and gentle admiration.  It beckons his earlier, much more classifiably folk material, like 2004’s Seven Swans.  The song ends with the line “But you are the life I needed all along / I think of you as my brother, although that sounds dumb / And words are futile devices.”  As if with that line he’s summoned Depeche Mode, track two bursts immediately forth with electronic feedback abound.  Shuffling, scuttling sound blips soar back and forth like huge mechanically distorted bubbles bursting in your left and right speakers.  Dark synthesizer tones and experimental beats rise up alongside gorgeous brass sections and swelling choruses.  With this track, Stevens starts to delve deeper into the themes he’ll be exploring for the rest of the album: the irreplaceable value of human relationships, the overwhelming desire to live right and to do right, and the quest for true, real happiness in an age of shallowness, materialism and quick fixes.

In Arcade Fire’s song “My Body Is a Cage,” Win Butler sings “I’m living in an age whose name I don’t know / Though my language is dead, still the shapes fill my head.”  It seems safe to say that we are living in one of the strangest ages that the world has ever known.  Though we’re farther along technologically than any Earthly societies have ever been, it’s true that the vast amounts of accessible information and interweb-connectivity have served just as much to alienate the individual as to alleviate his natural-borne curiosity and help him discover answers to trivia questions.  Though with the title The Age of Adz (with Adz reading like “Oz,” pointing to the colossal nature of this age’s technologically-powered agenda), it likely does not refer exclusively to this age’s rise and prominence of the literal advertisement.  Although, the idea of any product’s serving as a substitute for real human fulfillment is certainly an idea that would trouble Stevens a great deal. 

The eponymous album track explores the temporality of human existence and of human ideas, contrasted with the sense of familiarity one discovers through studying history and seeing its recurring patterns.  Regarding this age and (optimistically) all things, a huge chorus sings “When it dies, it rots / But when it lives, it gives it all it’s got,” and the sentiment is exactly what Stevens would ask of himself, and of each of us.  Our lives and our ideas are temporary, yet some things will always be; there will always be false, misleading paths of allure that promise happiness yet can never deliver.  There will always be heartbreak, there will always be misunderstanding, and we will always struggle to retain our dignity in the face of all our construction’s collapse.

The album marks an increase in maturity and a change in style for Stevens.  The Age of Adz comes after a horrible illness that affected his nervous system and rendered him unable to control his responses or reactions to stimuli (which packs the song “I Want to Be Well” with even more meaning than is immediately apparent).  His lyrics in this album are usually much more straightforward and blunt than they have been in previous efforts, with “Vesuvius” being the most obvious exception.  In “Get Real Get Right” Stevens sings atop a stomping, swelling electro soundscape,

“I know I’ve caused you trouble, I know I’ve caused you pain / But I must do the right thing / I must do myself a favor and get real / Get right with the Lord.”

His spirituality has often been a topic of controversy among independent music fans and critics alike.  In an industry largely dominated by secular artists, Stevens comes off as quite an anomaly, and it can be difficult to know how to place him if you’re uncomfortable with the ideas he presents.  But aren’t all the best artists the ones whom you have the most trouble placing, categorizing, or lumping together with other bands?

Even in the face of the epic twenty-five minute closer “Impossible Soul” and “The Age of Adz,” it is arguable that “Vesuvius” is the album’s highlight.  The song paints a picture of every man’s attempts at escaping his past, his mistakes, his “panic inside,” his “murdering ghosts” and moving again into lives of light and love.  The allusion to Mt. Vesuvius is awe-inspiring and profusely effective.  Given it are all the characteristics of God; indeed, it is certainly a manifestation of the Lord God, but the implication is that Vesuvius is the force inside of us that quivers to erupt and consume everything we come into contact with.  It’s the burning passion in each of our cores, the feelings of love and compassion we feel for each other, and every bit of goodness and righteousness that the world tries so hard to suck away from us completely.  Stevens sings “In your breast, I carry the form / The heart of the Earth, and the weapons of warmth.”  A life filled with love so overpowering and affecting that it could only be considered weaponal is the sort of life Stevens is trying to find.  He understands that he must “Follow the flame, or fall on the floor,” that there is no in-between, that there is no middle ground.  So he sends up a prayer: “Vesuvius, fire of fire / Follow me now, as I favor the ghost.”  He repeats it and repeats it as voices and choruses swell behind him, building and building.  As with each of us, he fights against himself, knowing his own nature, knowing that without help he will relapse, regress, and will “favor [and follow] the [murdering] ghost” of his treacherous past.  And the almost Celtic, bagpipe celebratory nature of the music from about the three-minute mark onward is one of the most uplifting moments of the entire album.

The tone of the album is, generally, dark, introspective, oftentimes critical, and yet ultimately celebratory.  The closing song “Impossible Soul” holds in its center a message of sheer honesty, but also of inspiration and hope.  A whole chorus sings about how this is the only life we’ve got, but that it can seem long, so we should really try to get ourselves together and do our best.  “We can do much more together,” so we should celebrate our sense of each other, and we should dance; because really, “It’s not so impossible,” this life.  

Taking us through sonic, tonal experimentation and deep, personal introspection, The Age of Adz is one of the best albums released this year, and a fantastic addition to Stevens’ already impressive catalogue.