I had an audio affair with Sufjan Stevens

And it brought with it the wonders of idleness

▶️ Background score for this article here. Listen while you read for the complete and whimsical experience.

Cold November mornings bring the allowance to wander, to let your mind go places it cannot go in the spring when the bees are buzzing, or in the summer when the sun creates a sense of time scarcity.

Cold November mornings are when I allow myself idleness; I allow myself to listen only to Sufjan Stevens.

I constantly have many audio affairs, from audiobooks to podcasts to musicians. Each of them goes by so quickly, my mind flitting from one to the other quicker than you can say squirrel. Each of these feels like a chapter in a journey of exploration. Each chapter is fantastic, in the truest sense of the word.

However, there are moments between these chapters when I find myself wanting a break from my rushing mind. Then I desire nothing more than to reflect, to allow myself solitude, to allow my mind to wander.

Allow myself idleness.

In those moments, I listen to Sufjan Stevens.

Since it’s probably a cold November morning where you are too, I’m sharing my love for Sufjan and hopefully, creating some space for you to welcome idleness into. You never know the treasures your wandering mind might hold for you.

Unrelated but beautiful art by Mayur Deshpande that captured my whimsy as I wrote this

Now, some love affairs begin with “it all started when…” This is different.

I don’t remember when it began because Sufjan’s music feels like it was always part of the melody of my life.

Was it when I stumbled upon Futile Devices, on my first solo trip which led me to the edges of the Black Forest?

So you can see what I saw when you listen to the song

Or was it when it entered my life again through Death with Dignity, when I lost someone close to me at 21 and did not have the vocabulary to grieve just yet?

It must have been either one of these. I don’t push myself to remember; it’s more romantic to think that my bones were always humming these tunes.

It’s common knowledge that when we fall in love with art, we don’t just fall in love with the art. We fall in love with what it makes us feel, what it reminds us of, what it represents, and perhaps we even fall in love with who we had been when we first discovered it.

When writing this piece, I began to wonder why I love all of Sufjan Stevens’ discography yet never seem to freely listen to it as much as I’d like to.

Will you indulge as I share that ‘why’? You might relate.

I have such a problem with staying still. Not because I am constantly fidgeting or because I have anything against the idea of rest.

But because I am prey to such common notions of productivity related to capitalism that my words have no unique way of representing them.

I am always moving from one “useful” activity to another, in constant need of reminding of William Wordsworth’s The World is Too Much With Us. I am not here to write a treatise on why we need to stop and disengage, especially when David J Siegel recently did such a fantastic job at it.

No, I’m simply here to tell you what I discovered: The only time I find myself letting true leisure seep in is when I tune into Sufjan Stevens’ sensual slowness. This is likely why I love his music. But, I never seem to listen to it as much as I’d like to because I am, like most people, bad at allowing myself moments of leisure.

I am not speaking of active rest or creative exercises, but of actual leisure. Of moments of meandering and exploring the magic that lies in pockets of time. Sounds like a great time, doesn’t it?

So, here are my five favorite Sufjan songs and why I fell in love with them.

I hope you'll allow them into your aural zeitgeist and, at the risk of sounding hypocritical, permit yourself a little leisure along with them.

Futile Devices (Doveman Remix)

Close your eyes and sink into this fireside melody. The song sounds the way an abstract painting looks — different to each of us. I can never determine if it’s to a lover or a friend, and I enjoy that vague beauty. However, if you listen closely, you can tell it’s written with deep affection that is only born when you feel truly safe. With such deep love that doesn’t require words but we often wish we could give it some. And what better words than those in this song.

Should Have Known Better

Carrie & Lowell is the one Sufjan Stevens album that I associate with the concept of spiritual rebirth. And I’m not the only one. From Sufjan’s official website: “…rich record filled with faith and disbelief and the resurrection of trust and dreams.” - Hilton ALS. The concept of death and rebirth grips my mind when it’s most silent. Hence, there are two Carrie & Lowell songs on this list.

Should Have Known Better starts on a low-note, with the lyrics indicating how you could have done or known better. The music at the beginning is resigned and repetitive. Slowly, it starts to transition, reminding you of clouds splitting to let sunlight in. It becomes a little playful and light. If you’re like me, it will leave you with a feeling of hope and a sense of forgiveness for most things, especially for yourself.

Fourth of July

Oh, this is a specifically tough one to tackle because I know what this song feels like to many around me. But, I’ll try to keep those thoughts aside and speak of what it means to me. The gentle tones rising to a crescendo coupled with the lyrics make me think of growing up — of putting to rest the innocence and naïveté of being a child. Take this song on a walk with you at twilight and tell me what you think?

For the Widows in Paradise, For the Fatherless in Ypsilanti

Have you ever felt a strong sense of protectiveness and love for someone you haven’t met yet? A lover or a child or a version of yourself that hasn’t come to pass yet. This song is that feeling but with chords to it. Fall into this poetic piece. Psst…for the magically inclined, it might feel like casting a shield around everyone that you love fiercely and truly.

Chicago

I definitely kept the best for last. Kirk Hamilton’s Strong Songs episode on this song made me fall more in love with it. The genius of a simple chord progression that markedly gets complex is enhanced by the hope the lyrics bring. In typical Sufjan form, the repetition makes it so that you find your mood changed from the start to the finish of the song. Oh and meet me somewhere around the three-minute mark? It’s impossible not to dream there.

I cannot thank you enough for reading. I can’t believe someone is, especially on cold November mornings.

With whimsy and joy,

Shreya