Concert Review: Sufjan Stevens at The Wiltern

Dearest blog readers, be sorry you weren't at this one. If you were, you'll know what I mean when I say that it was a beautiful show of epic proportions, easily one of, if not the best concert I have ever seen. Seamlessly combining his intimate precious folky tendencies with his newfound love for electro-orchestral bombast, Stevens delivered a show that was at once strikingly intimate and epically large-scale. Accompanied by an 11 piece band that included guitars, banjos, synths, trombones, two drummers, pianos, basses, auto-harps, lots of acoustic and electric percussion, and two backup dances wearing space-age silver lamme suits, Stevens began the show simply and quietly with "Seven Swans", a classic from his album of the same name. Initially accompanied only by his banjo, the song grew into a hard-rocking percussion orgasm held down by the two drummers. An incredibly tight unit, the large band rocked, funked, and were sensitive as called for by the individual song. More a piece of performance art than a concert, the band played between two sheer screens that appeared like mosquito netting. This was used to magic effect on the brilliant new song "Vesuvius", during which a volcano was projected onto the back screen and the lava and debris was projected onto the front screen. Pretty far out stuff.

The music was just as brilliantly bombastic as its presentation. Holding up better live than in the studio, Sufjan's main set, with the exception of "Seven Swans" and a phenomenal set closing rendition of his hit "Chicago" was comprised exclusively of new material from his "Age of Adz" album and "All Delighted People" EP. As Sufjan explained awkwardly during a monologue that felt like it went on 20 minutes, the new album explores the life of Royal Robertson, a schizophrenic Louisiana sign painter/folk artist/prophet. That should give some indication that this was not your typical Sufjan show. "Age of Adz" and "Vesuvius" were even more epic than on record; this electro-orchestral music sounded huge, and was especially striking accompanied by the wailing of the backup singers/dancers. On "Impossible Soul", a 25 minute masterpiece of genre melding gold, Sufjan went from folk to funk to auto-tune to '80's aerobics video style herky jerky dancing in neon clothing. Serious stuff.

To alleviate the bombast, Sufjan showed his sensitive folky side between the songs with "palate cleansers" such as the appropriately haunting "Enchanting Ghost" and the beautiful "Heirloom".

The encore, after an INSANE standing ovation, was comprised of acoustic classics from his "Illinoise" and "Seven Swans" records. "Casimir Pulaski Day" stood out as one of the more chilling and emotional moments of live music that I have ever seen, and by the time Sufjan closed the show alone with his acoustic guitar with the creepy yet gorgeous "John Wayne Gacy Jr.", the crowd were swept off their feet. A magical evening with a magical performer.

Setlist is as follows:

1. Seven Swans 


2. Too Much 


3. Age of Adz 


4. Heirloom 


5. I Walked 


6. Futile Devices 


7. Vesuvius 


8. Now That I'm Older 


9. Royal Robertson Monologue

10. Get Real Get Right 


11. Enchanting Ghost 


12. Impossible Soul 


13. Chicago 


Encore:

14. Concerning the UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinois 


15. Casimir Pulaski Day 


16. The Dress Looks Nice on You 


17. John Wayne Gacy, Jr.

Now, here's some video from the show:

The National

this is album is a couple years old now, so I don't feel quite right blogging about it, but I don't feel quite ready to blog about my most recent musical ventures (Peter and the Wolf, and the Traditionist) just yet. But that's not a real loss, because this is one of my favorite albums of all time, and I need a good rant right now.


The Nationals 4th album, Boxer, is a beautiful and sincere piece of work. It is host to lazy recluses (and rebellious ones) and people drunk and in love. When I walk down the streets with it playing in my ears, I feel like I'm somewhere else, in another city living another life, crooked and happy. Matt Berninger writes like he's been through a whole life and back again, and his tired baritone voice draws you in to the words and their meaning like no other singer I've heard. There are singers everywhere you hear, but don't listen to. Matt is not one of those singers.

The album is at times heavy and dark, and alternatively can be bright and soft. In fact, almost every other song switches off that way. There is a specific song on the album I can't get enough of, Gospel. With it's odd lyrics and it's washed out sound, it is unusually bright and romantic, making it stand out on the album and, in my opinion, making it the gem on the top of the crown. Don't miss out on this.