Speaking of albums I keep returning to, it would be foolish not to mention Sufjan Stevens’ Seven Swans. While I appreciate Carrie & Lowell for its candour, I find the mystery of Seven Swans equally appealing. On each listen, I find my mind going to an imaginative, melancholy space, and that is one of my favourite spaces to be in.
Because Seven Swans is such an enigmatic album, it is possible to spend days on each song. The album is littered with Stevens’ signature references to scripture. However, for those of you who are not familiar with Stevens, you should know that this theme is balanced with allusions to literature, culture and inner turmoil. One of my favourite things about Stevens is the way in which he seems to pose questions without providing us with the answers. In this way, I am reminded of the work of Woody Allen, who employs stark realism in order to explore different aspects of human nature and relationship in each of his films. But in place of revealing, Sufjan Stevens hides. And it is in the mixed metaphors and delicate lyricism that the questions may be found. These are two men I’d very much like to engage with. Like Allen, Stevens creates spaces in which it’s possible for his audience to reflect. While Allen engages our thinking, Stevens does this in addition to creating art that is evocative at every turn. He indulges in long instrumental pauses where the listener can develop their own narrative as the song develops. He surprises us with the waxing and waning of songs like Sister, which spends the majority of the song building a growing instrumental infused with vocal textures. It later develops into a gentle, stripped down vocal accompanied by simple guitar strumming. His voice is almost a whisper in this song, and it is layered to include beautiful harmonies sung by Stevens himself. One of my favourite moments on the album comes right at the end of Sister, where he finishes with the line, “I’ll Show You the Sky”. There are so many subtleties on Seven Swans that I seem to notice something new on every listen, a quality that endears music to me unlike many others. I think of the subtle instrumental melody in Size to Small as a wink at the listener familiar with Chicago, to be released the following year.
Intrigued by A Good Man is Hard to Find, I researched the short story of the same name, and found a matching narrative in both songs. With the inspiration in mind, I experienced an emotional depth to the song I had not yet touched. The story is a dark one, detailing an ominous killer called the Misfit, who murders an entire family. What is interesting to me is the way in which Stevens speaks in the first person, while the story is written in the third. It reminds me of John Wayne Gacy Jr, to be released on Illinoise alongside Chicago the following year. The latter tells the story of a serial killer, famous for torturing and murdering a number of boys in his neighbourhood. This song is also sung from the killer’s perspective. In doing this, Stevens evokes a strange sensation of sympathising with the worst of characters. He explores the fallen nature of man in a way that reminds the listener of his own inconsistencies. It’s not everyday that a song takes on such complex emotional material and Stevens does this with a sensitivity that cuts to the heart.
Size Too Small seems to allude to a best man in love with his close friend’s bride. To Be Alone with you has been featured in a number of movies and series in the context of a romantic relationship, but the song is peppered with strong references to the Gospel story. The Dress Looks Nice on You is the beautifully timid description of a man, taken in by a woman he knows. He juxtaposes everyday imagery with bigger, romantic and philosophical ideas in this song and throughout the album. I could go on about Seven Swans for much longer, but like Stevens, I’ll trust in your powers of interpretation and leave you to make up your own mind about the album.
