By: Drew Poulsen
On August 3, indie folk sensation, Sufjan Stevens, brought many Broadway-like theatrics to Brooklyn’s Prospect Park in front of a crowd of rain-soaked fans. Stevens wasted no time unleashing his pageantry, taking the stage adorned in his signature swan wings and a jumpsuit that may or may not have been stolen from the set of Tron.
Quietly behind a translucent curtain, Stevens began by plucking away at his 2007 classic, “Seven Swans.” Midway through the song, the curtain lifted, revealing a stage full of smoke, laser lights, and angelically-dressed backup singers.
At the peak of the confusion of what the audience was seeing on stage, Sufjan smashed his banjo, began banging on his keyboards, and started screaming into the microphone. The song took a complete turn into an electronic, disordered free-for-all. The tumultuous transformation was metaphorical to the sonic changes Stevens made when creating his latest electro-pop album, The Age of Adz.
When the song was over and the smoke cleared, Stevens introduced himself as the “entertainment for the evening,” and fired away hits from his latest album, including “Too Much” and “I Walked.” The stage at this moment was nothing less than a cosmic dreamland. Go-go dancers at all corners were getting increasingly absorbed in the melodic destruction that was being produced by Stevens and his extensive lineup of musicians.
Beautiful moving pictures inspired by artist and self-proclaimed prophet, Royal Robertson, made the performance just as pleasing to the eyes as it was to the ears. Stevens explained at the climax of the concert that Robertson not only provided the artwork for his latest album, but was also a muse for Stevens and provided much inspiration for the album’s lyrical content and stage design for the tour.
Despite the intense conflict and struggle stemming from the words and music on The Age of Adz, the concert was not always so unsmiling and flawless. Stevens, now 36-years-old, blamed his “old” age for botching up his lyrics, coincidentally to the track, “Now that I’m Older.” Prior to the finale, Stevens made a final costume change that would have made Lady Gaga blush.
For his 25-minute-long opus, “Impossible Soul,” Stevens appeared before the crowd, donned in a costume made of brightly-colored balloons and a T-shirt that read, “It’s a long life.” The ridiculousness of his attire was matched tenfold with what was happening in his surroundings. Confetti covered the stage and large, plastic orbs and beach balls the size of cars, flew at the hands of the waterlogged audience. Even those wacky, waving, inflatable, arm-flailing tube men we see in used car lots made an appearance.
For the first time of the night, the crowd ditched their umbrellas and danced, sang, and laughed together like a group of old friends throwing on an old pop CD they found from elementary school.
The ending was so memorable, I was not even expecting an encore. It would be like adding a scene to the end of Rocky, where Balboa and Adrian have a quiet dinner after his fight. Nevertheless, I did travel more than eight hours to be there, so hearing an encore full of Sufjan Stevens made me forgive him for cheapening his encore. Stevens left behind the synthesizers and thunderous drums for the mellow ballad, “The Dress Looks Nice on You.” Not abandoning the artist he has evolved from, Stevens closed the show with one of his biggest crowd pleasers, “Chicago.”
Despite the possibility of contracting pneumonia, no one in the audience wanted the concert to end. Never before had I witnessed a rock concert filled with so many emotions and ups and downs. The ludicrous costumes, lights, and dancers were met with such a sincerity from Stevens, that it was never perceived as over-the-top or tacky. The show left me as speechless as my cab driver when he realized he was going to water vac his interior after I got in the car.
