“There’s only a shadow of me; in a manner of speaking I’m dead.” So remarks Sufjan Stevens on “John My Beloved,” the ninth track on his latest release, “Carrie & Lowell.” Although the line ostensibly pertains to Stevens’ Christian faith — the song acts as an exchange between Jesus and John the Baptist — it also serves as a fitting epithet for his current musical identity.
At just under 45 minutes in length, “Carrie & Lowell” is Stevens’ shortest release, particularly in contrast to 2010’s “All Delighted People,” a so-called EP, which is stretched across a full hour. Compared to previous albums packed with woodwind sections, backing choirs and electronic effects, “Carrie & Lowell” really resembles a shadow: songs include only fingerpicked or rhythmically strummed acoustic guitar and piano, no percussion, and Stevens’ often multitracked vocals. It’s a stunningly simple record for Stevens, free of most of his usual quirks and embellishments.
This brevity and simplicity make “Carrie & Lowell” so strikingly beautiful, the finest work to date in Sufjan Stevens’ expansive discography. The songs never plod or feel bogged down. The arrangements are cohesive, with every element feeling purposeful.
Take second track “Should Have Known Better” — beginning with a melancholy chord progression fingerpicked at a contrastingly upbeat tempo, the song slowly builds to include a second guitar and quiet choral accompaniment to Stevens’ introspective lead vocal. A bridge introduces a recurring electric piano pattern, reminiscent of the electropop-oriented music on “The Age of Adz,” which builds into a cheerful and repetitive chorus. It all feels natural, never excessive nor overtly minimalist.
The lyrics on “Carrie & Lowell” tend to be more personal and confessional than those on previous albums, dealing with Stevens’ childhood memories and the recent death of his mother. The syncopation-heavy “All Of Me Wants All Of You” blends reflection on a short-term romantic partner with self-deprecation, yielding the unforgettably blunt line “You checked your texts while I masturbated.”
The following track, “Drawn To Blood,” is incredibly catchy, alternating between minor and major progressions and including a constant, metronomic electronic piano note. It is a slightly strange addition but it works, lending the track an ethereal quality as Stevens pleads to the “God of Elijah.”
On mid-album track “Fourth of July,” Stevens recalls the moments after his mother’s death and addresses her tenderly over echoing piano chords, calmly asking, “Did you get enough love my little dove? Why do you cry?” It’s a heart-wrenching moment of vulnerability, a beautifully simple goodbye.
Lead single “No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross” boasts stunning multi-tracked harmonies and swirling fingerpicking. Its mixture of religious and narrative lyrics and complex yet folky chord progression make it the quintessential Sufjan Stevens song.
The album ends abruptly, leaving one wanting more. It is understated, unpretentious and never indulgent. Tranquil and melodic from start to finish, “Carrie & Lowell” bears several repeat listenings, each time through revealing another lyrical gem or bit of harmonic complexity.
Sufjan Stevens has stripped his music down to yield his most enjoyable and accessible album yet, a reflective and charming collection of songs sure to please devoted fans and newcomers alike.