It’s finally time to talk about what has been described as Sufjan Stevens’ most personal album to date. The mysterious, melancholy man behind the music has begun to let us into his head, to the intimate extent of using his mother and stepfather’s names as the album’s title. Carrie & Lowell is also, arguably, Stevens’ best work to date.
While a refreshing level of honesty has always characterised Stevens’ work, Carrie & Lowell sees the singer blessing us with the stories behind the experience his former work has familiarised us with. While his work has provided solace during struggles at different points in my life, this album seems to resonate with me really consistently and I love it for that. The album is also set apart by the subject matter it covers. Something that’s always drawn me to Stevens’ work is the way in which he places the mundane alongside the existential. Questions of life and faith can be found next to observations of the ordinary. I think if you’ve been following Stevens’ career, Carrie & Lowell acts as something of a milestone, bringing things together and giving us a greater understanding of the narrative behind the music. My experience of Stevens’ earliest work is that it is not altogether cohesive, and it’s really beautiful to see that it has developed into something with a lot more clarity, and no less uniqueness. We are introduced to Stevens’ mother, Carrie, early on in the album. My research, as well as Stevens’ lyrics, inform me of the tenuous relationship that existed between them during her life. The album proceeds to share the heartbreaking desire that the speaker has for reconciliation and warmth with Carrie, in the wake of her death. While I am ordinarily reluctant to ascribe aspects of an artist’s personal life to create context for his or her work, this album seems to be deeply personal, and my feeling is that Stevens wants to share these aspects of his life with us as we listen. My favourite song on Carrie & Lowell would have to be Fourth of July. I love him a little more for including the u in that word, despite his American heritage. It’s such a beautifully gentle exploration of love and mortality, executed with such sensitivity and fragile vulnerability that it’s basically impossible not to love. It’s littered with the loveliest of metaphors, the crowning jewel being referring to the subject of the song as “my little Versailles”. There’s a real sense of closure and healing on this album. It is as though Stevens has processed the events of his life to the point where he is able to share his story with us. My hope is that writing the album was as cathartic as listening to it has been for me. But the album is not limited to snippets of Stevens’ childhood. “All of Me Wants All of You” details a relationship in which the speaker feels isolated within what appears to be a romantic entanglement. “Fourth of July” explores, with beautiful sensitivity, the reality of life and death, to name to just two tracks that veer towards more existential content. But the over-arching impression that I am left with on each listen is a kind of comforting melancholy. Rather than making me forget Stevens’ previous work, Carrie & Lowell seems to give it a fresh perspective. I find myself returning to earlier albums after listening to this one, and somehow appreciating them more. I hope that Sufjan Stevens will continue to bless our ears and our hearts with his sensitivity and grace for a long time to come.
