For all the plaudits that greeted Sufjan Stevens’ Michigan and Illinois albums, there was always the nagging feeling that his music was more involving and moving when it was less high-concept, as on Seven Swans. He returns to that mood – sombre and intimate, with sparse instrumentation – for his seventh album, on which heartbreak and death are intermingled. “Shall we beat this or celebrate it?/ You’re not one to talk things through,” he sings on the devastatingly beautiful All of Me Wants All of You, then follows that line, bitterly, with: “You checked your texts while I masturbated/ Manelich, I feel so used.” Given the album is named after his mother (who left Stevens’ family when he was very young and suffered mental illnesses) and stepfather (who now helps run his record label), it’s hard not to imagine he’s unburdening himself of his childhood: is it Carrie who is “sitting at the bed with a halo at your head” on Fourth of July, especially when Stevens then wonders: “Was it all a disguise?” The music matches the lyrics, managing to be both overwhelming and understated: melodies match sentiment with perfect judgment. Carrie & Lowell is a delight in every way, surely one of the albums of the year.
