Sufjan Stevens is no stranger to melodrama, and the 48-year-old singer’s 10th solo album “Javelin” does little to disprove such accusations. One only needs to give a listen to the aptly-named “Will Anybody Ever Love Me” and its lyrics, which draw comparisons between wronging a lover and biblical torture, to understand the level of operatics that “Javelin” revels in.
But the problem with Stevens’ melodrama is that it can never be reduced to such basic terms. Within the last year, Stevens has suffered the tragic loss of his partner (to whom he has dedicated “Javelin”) and become wheelchair-bound for the indefinite future due to his diagnosis of a rare neurological disorder. Within the context of Stevens’ personal struggles, songwriting that could be interpreted as theatrical instead becomes the intimate words of a lovesick oracle.
Fans of Stevens know the songwriter laying his pain bare is a key element of his music. “Javelin” regularly hearkens back to 2015’s “Carrie and Lowell,” another record that dealt in love and loss to the most personal degree. Like “Carrie and Lowell,” it is largely minimal in its production, bathing in fingerpicked acoustics (see “A Running Start” and “Genuflecting Ghost”). Like “Carrie and Lowell,” the album confronts emotional turmoil so directly that the resulting songs can feel like an invasion of Stevens’ mind.
But unlike “Carrie and Lowell,” which provided little solace in its stark portraits of familial grief, “Javelin” is a decidedly hopeful album, one which gives way to moments of triumph and exaltation, of apologies and forgiveness. These moments are often accompanied by instrumentals that draw from other high points in Stevens’ decades-long career. “Goodbye Evergreen” explodes into electronica reminiscent of “The Age of Adz,” while numerous other tracks beautifully arrange choral voices in a manner akin to “Seven Swans” and “Silver and Gold.”
A standout moment — and personal favorite — is the unbelievably ethereal “Everything That Rises,” a track that finds Stevens making an appeal to both his faith and his partner, with wishes to be delivered to “a higher plane.” The stunning vocal arrangements found throughout “Javelin” are here in full force, creating a soundscape that matches the lushness of past albums “Illinois” or “Michigan” while maintaining the album’s far more stripped-back atmosphere.
But it’s the album’s eight-minute-long penultimate track, “Shit Talk,” that best encapsulates the spirit of “Javelin.” The song begins with the breakdown of a relationship, serving as the culmination of themes found on previous tracks. The excitement of newfound infatuation explored in “A Running Start,” the complacency of “So You Are Tired,” the wrongdoings of “Will Anybody Ever Love Me” and “Javelin (To Have And To Hold)” all climax here, with Stevens plainly stating that “our romantic second chance is dead,” and that he can no longer bear to live or even look at his partner.
But despite such woefulness, “Shit Talk” never veers into despair. Stevens precedes each of the song’s most devastating blows with the simple proclamation of “I will always love you.” As the song progresses, those five words, alongside wishes of “I don’t wanna fight at all,” become a reaffirming mantra, a way of holding the past partner dear in his heart rather than ruminating on all that went wrong.
“Shit Talk,” like the rest of “Javelin,” is an exercise in looking back in fondness and acceptance instead of dwelling on regret and what-ifs. There is plenty of unavoidable yearning and difficult recollections spread throughout its airtight 42-minute track list, but both lyrically and musically, “Javelin” always returns to center itself in the importance of indulging oneself in love.
Stevens himself put it best on his blog, stating, “If you happen to find that kind of love, hold it close, hold it tight, savor it, tend to it, and give it everything you’ve got, especially in times of trouble.”
Matthew Catalano can be reached at [email protected].
