Sufjan Stevens Gets Personal on ‘Carrie & Lowell’

Stephanie Hernandez

In the past, Sufjan Stevens has dabbled in many musical styles, trying everything from holiday music to orchestral-backed tracks, to layered electro-pop. With the release of his latest and seventh studio album, “Carrie & Lowell,” we find Sufjan returning to an earlier time in his career where powerful almost whispered lyrics took center stage over indie folk guitar carried melodies. Reminiscent of past work, such as 2004’s “Seven Swans” or 2003’s “Greetings From Michigan,” the toned down airy vocals and gently picked guitars provide the perfect stage for nostalgia and childhood memories to occupy. Steven’s paints a beautifully understated portrait of his mother and stepfather, whom the album is named after. Full of honest and poignant songwriting, “Carrie & Lowell” will take listeners on an extremely personal and cathartic journey through the childhood of a son dealing with the death of his mother.

Sufjan has an amazing ability to use lyrics as narratives, with enough emotional acuity to make his experiences pertinent even to those who may have not had this tragedy. “Carrie & Lowell” stems from the loss of Steven’s mother Carrie, who passed in 2012. The album is both a tribute and candid exploration of his grief following the event. In the opening song, “Death With Dignity” Sufjan sings about accepting the death of his mother. It is thoughtfully put at the beginning of the record to set the tone of the album and the listener hears the hardest message first. “I forgive you mother / I can hear you / and I love to be near you / but every road leads to an end.” The way Steven’s voice delicately whimpers over the lyrics gives the impression of a man still sorrowful. The effect is a perfectly raw and emotionally fragile expression of grief. Not only delicate in song, but also in his actual relationship with his mother, Sufjan seems to be using the album to work out Carrie’s own absence from his life before her death. Before her passing, Steven’s had very little recollection of his mother; the singer had grown up with his father after his mother left his family when he was just a year old. Battling years of addiction and depression, Carrie finally passed of stomach cancer less than three years ago. The beauty of the album comes from Steven’s ability to intermingle these moments of beauty with darker and heavier emotions.

We find Sufjan on his most toned down on “Carrie & Lowell.” We find no evidence of large scale synthesized harmonics, intense beats or layered guitars; instead, we are given an airier album. Though not as instrumentally dense, the message is more powerful and thus much more difficult to listen to without taking a moment to recollect. The first single from the album, “Should Have Known Better” we hear Sufjan sing, “When I was three / three maybe four / she left us at the video store.” An almost sweet sounding retelling of abandonment, giving the impression of forgiveness for past wrongs felt. It is has served Stephen well to use himself as the subject matter, rather than other men, as he has done in the past. By doing this, both the listener and the singer can more honestly evaluate and understand the complex emotion that is mourning. The sound builds towards the center of the album with “Fourth of July,” utilizing just enough orchestral backing to provide variety, with an eventual fade to the final line repeating, “we’re all going to die / we’re all going to die / we’re all going to die.” Full of small details and powerful vignettes of a life gone by, Sufjan saves possibly the most heart-wrenching track for his close. “Blue Bucket of Gold” finishes the record as a last plea, “Raise your right hand / tell me you want me in your life” is the line that perfectly sums up Steven’s innocent need to know a love he’s always longed for in his life.

Grieving is what this albums is all about. It is a universal and hard-hitting part of life that everyone has felt or will feel in their lifetime. However, this is an emotion that is pervasive and unavoidable. Reading as an almost sonic diary, you hear the pain and confusion of a young Sufjan to a more understanding and forgiving son as you journey through the album to its end. “Carrie & Lowell” is proof that sometimes the best way to deal with and make sense of these highly personal parts of life is to share them with others. By giving us access to his darkest moments, Sufjan has successfully provided catharsis for both himself and the listener. Possibly his most personal and honest album to date, Sufjan has given new meaning to the word intimacy, and his listeners can take this to their hearts.

Carrie & Lowell will be available on iTunes March 31.