All Delighted People

It’s okay people, stand down. Sufjan Stevens’ existential crisis is over.

Out of nowhere, following sound collages and multimedia paeans to disasters in architecture, everyone’s favourite God fearin’ troubadour is back with an EP to remind us why we fell in love with him in the first place.

All Delighted People has been described as a “dramatic homage to the Apocalypse, existential ennui and Paul Simon’s ‘The Sounds of Silence’”. What’s Art Garfunkel ever done to upset Sufjan? Anyway, it’s a return to the Sufjan Stevens found on the 50 States project and perhaps the greatest album of the last ten years, Seven Swans.

At 60 minutes, it’s hardly worthy of the title “EP”. Based around two versions of the title track, and the 17 minute closer ‘Djohariah’, it mixes the more “traditional” work of Stevens found on Illinoise, Michigan and The Avalanche with the glitch electronica of ‘You Are the Blood’ found on the compilation Dark Was the Night. Lyrically, it embraces the religious imagery found on Seven Swans and this seems to be hinted at in the title of the EP. For “delighted” read “enraptured”, or even The Rapture. Perhaps this much talked about crisis of confidence has sent Sufjan Stevens back to the semi-comfort he finds when singing to, or about, God.

The EP opens with the original version of ‘All Delighted People’, amounting to about four songs in one. It begins in gentle style, with Stevens not wanting to be alone, and warning of an impending end:

“And I took you by the sleeve
No other reason than to be you leading man
And you woke up with a fright
Our lives depended on the visions through the night
All we had always, all we had always wanted to before”
The hurricane inclined us, grappling on the floor
All delighted people raise their hands.”

There’s reference to the storm within one’s self, and the more traditional, but it’s clear that these are the end of days. The song moves to a magnificent climax, choirs of voices and instruments reaching a crescendo. It’s the most ambitious that Stevens has sounded, there’s so much going on in there.

As this is a digital-only release at the moment, it’s hard to know who else contributes to this EP, but I’m sure I can hear the distinctive soprano of My Brightest Diamond’s Shara Wordren in the choir of voices.

The “Classic Rock” version of the track is more straight-ahead Sufan, and can be filed alongside the alternative versions of ‘Chicago’ found on The Avalanche. Lots of banjo and brass, almost Sufjan-by-numbers.

Moving on, ‘Enchanting Ghost’, the gorgeous ‘Heirloom’ and the creepy/beautiful ‘The Owl and the Tanager’ all reference religion, death and spiritual dilemmas. It’s the slower moments on the EP that really stand out and none are better than ‘Arnika’.

That track begins detailing what seems to be the day-to-day machinations of a married couple (“Bruno, your wife shakes her bedclothes as she makes up the bed”) and then detours into what might be the most personal lyrics Sufjan Stevens has ever written:

“I’m tired of life; I’m tired of waiting for someone
I’m tired of prices; I’m tired of waiting for something……”

Stevens’ voice sounds at its most exposed, backed with faltering guitars (the rest of the EP sees his best work on the axe to date) and he seems close to breaking as the song climaxes:

“No I’m not afraid of death or strife or injury, accidents they are my friends.”

Closing with the 17 minute tribute to his sister, ‘Djohariah’, Stevens pushes the boat out with psychedelic guitar solos, horn breaks and what really sounds like something that Parliament might have come up with if they had a penchant for folk music. It actually acts as something of a companion piece to Seven Swans’ ‘Sister’, albeit extended to over twice the length.

All told, it’s a thrilling return to form and completely undeserving of this hatchet job, hastily-prepare by Drowned in Sound. With a tour scheduled for later in the year, and an LP with The National mooted, it’s great to see Sufjan Stevens back and sounding as good as he does.