And He takes, and He takes, and He takes.

Sufjan Stevens has written about death before. Quite a lot, actually. ‘Casimir Pulaski Day’, from his wondrous 2005 album Illinois, is one of the best examples of this, a song which Paste Magazine quite reasonably claimed was the saddest song of all time. In its final stanzas, Stevens recalls the morning of a friend’s death from cancer and the crisis of faith that ensued. And nearly twenty years later, the spectre of that quote above, the last line of ‘Casimir Pulaski Day’, hangs hauntingly over this album.

When Javelin singles “So You Are Tired” and “Will Anyone Ever Love Me?” were initially released, it appeared as though we were about to receive a ruminative breakup album. Indeed, that was the impression that most seemed to have upon Javelin’s release. However, a day ago, Stevens publicly and beautifully dedicated the album to his late partner, Evans Richardson IV, who died back in April of this year. Knowing the context surrounding the album’s creation, its songs take on a devastating new meaning.

Stevens has been known for interchanging between musical styles with successive studio album releases. He is well versed in ornate, dramatic indie folk (see Michigan and Illinois), glitchy electronica (see The Age of Adz and The Ascension) and sparse singer-songwriter fare (see Seven Swans and Carrie and Lowell), and is loathe to follow up an album with another of the same disposition. This time, perhaps for the first time, Stevens has drawn from all of these impulses simultaneously - fitting, given the lyrical matter. These songs are backed by relatively lean instrumentation but the sound is grandiose. Pianos, guitar varietals and Stevens’ own vocals ring out into what feels like an abyss. A press release for Javelin noted that Stevens crafted the album in the comfort of a home studio, but it really sounds like Stevens is trying to fill the space in a massive, cold, empty room. If anything, the album functions as a pure distillation of longing, a feeling interrupted only by passages of electronic chaos and confusion. Grief on wax.

This is a Sufjan Stevens release, so the writing is excellent and the songs are intricate and blooming. Going any deeper, it is hard to find words that uniquely describe the record. Writing that faces up to death at a personal level is difficult to parse. In some way, listening to Javelin feels distant, like silently watching Stevens process his tremendous loss in real time. It would be a tall order to try and do the album justice in a few paragraphs. Best to experience it for yourself. Javelin is heart-wrenching and life-affirming and really worth it.

83

Sam Gollings

16 October 2023