There’s a playlist I favour on Spotify with the striking title “Sufjan Stevens, you f***ing sad bitch”. In compiling it, some kind fan of the Detroit singer-songwriter has discarded his wilder musical experiments and kept only the softest, sweetest, most heart-wrenching ballads. Stevens has a distracting fondness for electronic pile-ons, festive pageantry and concept albums (recent releases include Convocations, which contained 49 instrumentals representing the five stages of grief, and A Beginner’s Mind, a set of duets with Angelo De Augustine inspired by films including Mad Max and Hellraiser III). But stripped back to first principles, he’s the world’s best at turning the listener into a helpless puddle.
That’s why probably his best loved album (and the main provider of songs on that playlist) is Carrie & Lowell, a haunting 2015 meditation on the death of his mother that is a relatively rare example of him maintaining a consistently forlorn tone from start to finish. Well fans of Sad Sufjan are about to have their hearts broken all over again, because on Javelin the acoustic instruments are back centre stage. The mood is hushed, reverent and yes, very blue indeed.
It’s possible there’s been a romantic breakup, though it’s hard to ascertain when exactly, given that his lyrics often sound like he’s adding to the Psalms. “Let’s drink ‘til it’s Pentecost/ Drink unto the wind,” he breathes on the gently waltzing My Red Little Fox. “I will always love you/ But I cannot look at you,” he sings on the epic centrepiece, an exquisite song with the less exquisite title Shit Talk, closing its long journey by repeating “I don’t wanna fight at all.”
On the fast-changing opener, Goodbye Evergreen, he chooses to crush the sweet melody with heavy synthesized smears. But elsewhere, though the songs often swell layer upon layer, this time they only become more beautiful with every extra touch. Five female backing singers fly angelically around each other all over the album. A plucked banjo gives way to hissing drums and heavenly voices on Will Anybody Ever Love Me?
There’s a real-life reason to feel tearful as you approach this album. Last month Stevens revealed that he has Guillain-Barré syndrome, an autoimmune condition that causes severe muscle weakness. He won’t be able to tour with these new songs, instead spending the next year relearning how to walk. Somehow, with his music, he has flown to new heights here – one giant reason to be cheerful.
