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A few years ago, had you allowed one of Stevens’ loyal followers a glimpse of this future scene, they might well have recoiled in horror. ‘What has happened to our self-effacing prince of softly spoken acoustic indie?’, they might well have despairingly cried. Understandably so; the type of support the Detroit-born singer-songwriter had garnered on the back of such cult albums as Seven Swans and the hugely popular Illinois was never going to willingly guide itself to such a gig without good reason.
Fortunately, such a reason came in the form of last year’s 80-minute epic The Age of Adz, a drastic but compellingly artful reinvention, low-key folk narratives transformed into an electro-orchestral voyage inspired by the life and work of American artist Royal Robertson and his apocalyptic prophecies. Indeed, Stevens’ devoted a sizable chunk of last Thursday’s concert to explaining this artistic springboard, aided by projections of Robertson’s vivid drawings that were then brought to life during subsequent songs. Not that these mini-lectures ate objectionably into his stage-time; with a set lasting two and a half hours, Stevens put many of touring contemporaries to shame. No expenses were spared on this production, the sound system admirably lucid. All stops were also pulled in regards to the backdrop, several magnificent screens surrounding a vast array of instruments draped in a spectrum of neon.
However, what proved most enthralling was how strikingly the album took to the stage. Drawing upon a team of ten additional musicians, the music acquired a strong visceral element, two drummers executing the primal beats of ‘Get Real Get Right’ with outstanding precision while tracks such as ‘Vesuvius’ came alive with exoticism, wooden flutes and sparkling keyboard effects enhancing the ambient textures. ‘I Want To Be Well’, the LPs breakdown moment, packed an emotional punch even weightier than its recorded counterpart, distorted guitar cracks grounding the skyward cries of the repeated title refrain.
These album showcases were interspersed with tranquil throw backs to Stevens’ earlier styles, subdued acoustic renditions of ‘The Owl and the Tanager’, ‘Sister’ and even a cover of R.E.M.s ‘The One I Love’, each greeted warmly by the sell-out audience. However, even an encore trilogy culminating in an expansive version of fan-favourite ‘Chicago’, accompanied by a cascade of balloons, could not detract from ‘Impossible Soul’, the show’s undeniable half-hour long climax, a musical and visual tour-de-force overshadowing even his most iconic work. It had become clear that, with this remarkable reinvention, Sufjan Stevens has embarked upon an unlikely musical path, one which his fans are all too happy to follow him down. Let’s just hope he’s not planning on doubling back on himself any time soon; art needs creativity like this right now.
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