lewisandhisblog:

I’m currently listening to Sufjan Stevens’ Michigan, which I purchased on vinyl at the end of last year during a trip to New York City. See that giant block of text on the back? No, those aren’t the lyrics (open the gatefold for those). Actually, it’s a lengthy and passionate articulation of the nature of Stevens’ relationship with his home state, written by Stevens himself, that reads exactly the way the album sounds.

Some choice selections:

“Oh Detroit, what have you done to man, his wife and kids, his cousins, his music, his hairstyles, his shoes with white tips, his pleated pants, his elbow slung out the car window, his basketball courts, his officers downtown, his nightclubs, his shirtsleeve tucked over a pack of cigarettes, his imagination, his industry, his sense of humor, his home?”

“Even still, here and now, there is a renaissance of hope. The streets will take up horns and play free jazz, the busses will clang their bells in time, the buildings once burned out will be home to the homeless.”

…and the powerful conclusion:

“Perhaps we don’t like what we see: our hips, our loss of hair, our shoe size, our dimples, our knuckles too big, our eating habits, our disposition. We have disclosed these things in secret, likes and dislikes, behind closed doors with locks, our lonely rooms, our messy desks, our empty hearts, our sudden bursts of energy, our sudden bouts of depression. Don’t worry. Put away your mirrors and your beauty magazines and your books on tape. There is someone right here who knows you more than you do, who is making room on the couch, who is fixing a meal, who is putting on your favorite record, who is listening intently to what you have to say, who is standing there with you, face to face, hand to hand, eye to eye, mouth to mouth. There is no space left uncovered. This is where you belong.”

God, isn’t he just incredible? I want to hug him for being so wonderful. My love for Sufjan Stevens will never fade. Why couldn’t he have made an album about Connecticut?