The Sufjan Stevens show was excellent. It was at the Mesa Arts Center. According to my Yelp account, MAC is "one of the most modern, beautiful, intricate, architectures..." Wonderfully taken out of context, they are paying me much less than I deserve.
What a show! I could easily write more than I need to effectively describe the experience. It was like an acid trip you didn't expect because there was no way this guy put a tab in my hamburger I mean I hardly knooowwwwwwwwaaaiiitaminute. Much of the scenery and visual effects used during the show were explained as inspired by Royal Robertson, a paranoid schizophrenic minister who took much of his inspiration from visions provided by God, Satan, and of course, aliens. We can't make this stuff up.
Three years ago I could explain Sufjan as a docile and soothing being. His musical personality resembled the deer drawn on the covers of his albums. You didn't notice that deer on Illinoise, did you? Songs for Christmas? Embrace my discovery. The man looks like a 35 year-old hipster going through puberty. He only furthers this image by playing stop-motion animations of himself - whereupon he tries on different clothing during his groovy dances - while he and his 10-piece band were playing. And puberty is a fair description of this remarkable transition that I didn't know had existed. His musical style has changed dramatically.
It's an evolution, fact not fiction, a theory to find musical resolution. Rapping transition sentence complete. His style has been overcome with revelation and he is seeing visions - much like Royal Robertson - that are very personal and likely inspired by MUCH introspection. What's so dangerous is that Sufjan is unrelenting in his discovery with a musical brilliance that was constrained by the walls of the theater. This is a musician who is on a much higher level in a genre that is already filled with overstated and misunderstood sensibilities about hipster culture nonsense.
Sufjan is also exploring the territory of the mainstream. It's music that was so good on its own merits, it will begin to transcend personal taste. His next album is going to be extremely focused and remarkable. His latest releases "Age of Adz" (LP) and "All Delighted People" (EP) were the centerpiece of his live performance in Mesa, but they seem to be the dramatic setup to a masterpiece. He's experimenting with auto-tuning instrumentation, three-dimensional immersive visual environments, and kinky dance girls who make a valiant effort to steal the show.
I wrote down the set-list, but it's probably more reasonable to speak comprehensively while addressing highlights than to reduce the performance by a track-by-track breakdown. The songs from "Age of Adz" have dramatic peaks and troughs. This is within the context of each song. The songs played were very dynamic, loud, and indicative of Sufjan's inspiration taking an axe to his former musical product, rather than acting as a plane shaving the wood to define detail (which I'm betting we will see on his next release). A screen that was occasionally raised and lowered (in whatever order made sense) between and during songs acted as a surface onto which Sufjan's crew projected the band's silhouettes, sharp geometrical shapes, and softly suspended dust bunnies (that I suppose were intended to be stars). He also played a 25 minute song that felt more like 12 to me. Honestly, when a song is that long, it tests your endurance. Unless you smoke pot all day and complain about how you can't get a job. Then you might have time. But otherwise, it didn't bother me. The song was good. It was inspired, it was fun, and Sufjan was very engaging during the entire 25 minutes. Over the course of the entire evening, he danced at times like his life depended on it. He would have been shot in Soviet Russia. The dancing wasn't very good. But it was adorable and entertaining.
Sufjan closed with four songs from his better known, earlier material, including John Wayne Gacy, Jr. This song - certainly not for the average listener - was performed to a chilling T. It left the room somewhat stunned and to a split-second delayed applause. It was a great closer. As a result the show lacked consistency but it was a very strong performance regardless.
I was moved and I wish now that we hadn't sat the whole night. The box seat that I so obnoxiously swiveled in was a treat because I was able to sit, observe, and write without interruption from folks walking past me to be seated. I'd definitely take the seat again rather than a front row experience. It was much more intimate because I was able to be "alone with the performer". Whether this was actually more intimate could easily be argued, but not with me, because I will just piss you off with my insistence.
Let it be known that roughly 80% of the crowd was hipster sheeple, clapping at every opportunity to demonstrate their appreciation for their own cluelessness. The most prominent example was the absolutely disastrous opening act, courtesy of DM Stith, an obviously talented guitarist whose lyrical self-indulgence was a remarkable deterrent to any enjoyment. To summarize: he sings to listen to his own voice, his songs are over-extended with mindless choruses, and he seems like a nice guy otherwise. If you're reading this DM, I don't apologize, but I'd love to discuss how I can help you move your career forward without continuously preaching about how much you love yourself. I know I represent a catastrophically small minority so who the hell cares. Let him rake in the dough opening for a talented artist.
I loved the show. It lasted at least two hours. I ended up sleeping for 11 hours just so my body could recover from all of that awesome.
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