Rockin' Our Turntable: Sufjan Stevens
By Michele Lenni in Arts & Entertainment on Aug 31, 2010 2:30PM
It's really not hard to see why Sufjan Stevens, an artist known for making grandiose statements with his trademark softly sweet vocals, chose an artist like Simon and Garfunkel to draw inspiration from for his first new recording in five years, the All Delighted People EP. The similarities on All Delighted People and the Simon and Garfunkle song he chose to emulate, Sound of Silence, aren't precluded to their lyrics, but the tone and story of portions Stevens' recording could easily fit in the same catalogue as the famous '60s folk masters.
Overall, we'd say that this EP is pretty good, though standard fair for what we've come to expect from Stevens. Of course after 2005's the all-out dramatic epic album, Illinoise, it will be difficult for Stevens to produce anything even close its caliber again.
Though most of the songs have the barrage of layered vocal harmonies, random pops and whirs of synth, strong bursts of trumpet and trombone and lushly laid string arrangements that have become Stevens' signature, we were continually nagged by the feeling that something in this piece was missing: focus.
The seven-song EP clocks in at over sixty minutes and feels more than just a little forced and convoluted at times with two-versions of the same song and an almost 18-minute, self-indulgent jam at the end. The first or "Original Version" of All Delighted People, which opens the record with thick cooing vocals and sweeping string arrangements, feels appropriately robust in its execution and approach. The second, or "Classic Rock Version," though lyrically almost identical to the first, features less of a prodigious arrangement and scale, but probably a harder-edge sound, and the first ever wanky guitar solo by Stevens. We found no real reason to include both, except for those Steven-ites that truly geek out over every note and cacophonous phrase that differ in the slightest on each version.
The last track, Djohariah, named for Stevens' eccentrically named sibling, is a heady jam more akin to late period Pink Floyd than Simon and Garfunkle. It seems to go on forever, and for no reason, wrapping up after almost 18-minutes. It just really seems as if Stevens had been holding onto these tunes for quite a while and needed a venue to get them off his chest, so to speak. The problem is that these songs take up the majority of the effort and seem pretentious and sometimes superfluous at best.
Brighter moments on the EP are often the most subdued and sparsely arranged. Songs like "From the Mouth of Gabriel" and "Heirloom" flourish among the weeds with a quiet beauty that typifies more of Stevens’ early solo efforts.
The best thing about this EP is you can check it out in its entirety for free here and if you like it you can download it for a mere $5.