Sufjan Stevens
The Avalanche: Outtakes and Extras
from the Illinois Album
Seemingly out of nowhere, indie/folk/orchestral popster Sufjan Stevens emerged with arguably the best album of 2005 (and, quite possibly, of the new millennium) in Illinois.
As part two of his proposed “50 States” project, Stevens’s ode to the Prairie State presented a sprawling 75-minute epic, marrying his hushed, vulnerable (but never melodramatic) vocals with plunking banjos, bleating horn sections, skittering woodwinds and community chorus-style backing vocals. The effect was fresh, striking, and thoroughly American—a sort of Paul Simon folk troubadour sensitivity, paired with Brian Wilson orchestration, Steve Reich minimalism and wide-eyed Polyphonic Spree bombast.
And while Stevens has been accused by some of creating the auditory equivalent of a Fodor’s travel guide, skimming the surface details of the state without ever plumbing its depths, what these critics seem to miss is that the whole state thing is really just a backdrop against which the singer/composer can play out his deeply felt stories of love, loss, memory, spirituality and yearning. It wouldn’t matter whether it was set in Kalamazoo or Kazakhstan—the humanity of the characters and situations he describes resonates all the same.
Reportedly, Illinois was conceived as a double-disc set before being trimmed, and the “leftovers” are collected here on his latest release. So, in a way, The Avalanche could really be described as a sort of B-side doppelgänger of the Illinois album. Certainly, there are many surface similarities—from name-dropping famous historical figures like Saul Bellow and Adlai Stevenson to curious instrumental interludes and long, outrageous song titles (“The Vivian Girls Are Visited in the Night by Saint Dargarius and His Squadron of Benevolent Butterflies,” anyone?). There are even three alternate takes of Illinois’s most accessible track, “Chicago,” including a truly fascinating “Multiple Personality Disorder” version.
Dig deeper, and you’ll find further parallels, like the blend of spare, folksy tracks with larger-scale, more heavily orchestrated, odd-time-signature-based sing-alongs. And despite the fact that this is technically an album of outtakes, there’s a sense of flow that recalls—you guessed it—Illinois.
But let’s be clear—as good as The Avalanche may be, it’s not on the same level as Illinois, and it was never meant to be. The album was “shamelessly compiled by Sufjan Stevens,” according to the liner notes, which suggests that it’s intended as a stopgap while Stevens no doubt develops new material for Arkansas, Delaware, North Dakota, et. al.
Still, it rises miles above what you’d expect from a collection of “outtakes and extras,” sounding remarkably polished and complete. Honestly, had it not arrived on the heels of such a highly regarded release, The Avalanche would likely contend for album-of-the-year honors. And while it may not represent any major advance from his previous efforts, this still stands as a highly recommended document of the superb, beautiful, life-affirming music we’ve come to expect from Sufjan Stevens.
May it continue for 48 more states, the District of Columbia, the Canadian provinces and beyond.
