The latest Sufjan Stevens album Carrie & Lowell is named after his parents. Well, sort of. To be specific, it’s named after his mother, who left the family when Stevens was 1 year old, and the man she ended up with. Stevens wrote the album after her death, as he struggled to process both her passing, and the internal contradiction of feeling such immense grief at losing someone with whom he’d created so few memories, shared so little time. As he sings on the song All of Me and All of You: “Should we beat this or celebrate it?”

It’s my favourite Sufjan album. Those same delicate, cyclical guitar arpeggios which have been the foundation for so many of his songs are intact, but they’re both darker and, for me at least, more beautiful. Where previous records adorned this foundation with cheerful orchestral arrangements or abrasive electronica, Carrie & Lowell fills out the stereo spectrum with little more than a second acoustic guitar matching the first, as if to keep it company, and obsessively double tracked lead vocals. One feels that Stevens is singing and strumming along with himself because everything would just be too sad, too raw, without the extra ambience of a companion, even if the companion must be his own ghost vocal. The lyrics blend wisps of happy memory with jarring references to emotional dysfunction, self-destruction, and a deep sadness, all rendered beautiful by yearning melodies that never stoop to maudlin.

The first single No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross exemplifies the emotional complexity that can result from relatively unsubtle constituent parts. The singer castigates himself with sarcasm, (“Like a champion, get drunk to get laid,”) implores fate to connect him with his mother in any way possible, (“Drag me to hell in the valley of the damned, like my mother. . .”), imagines some invisible presence conspiring against him (“my assassin like Casper the ghost”), before concluding in the songs title that there is no grace to be found in the struggle to bare life’s burden. 

Yet as he passes through these lyrical stations of pain Stevens sings along with himself as sweetly, as angelically, as he ever has, leaving us with the impression that maybe it’s okay to celebrate what you can’t beat. It’s a nice feeling to get from a record. 

Simon C.

“Can Twelve Great Christmas Songs be treated with the same excitement as is the original pop material of today; sung by four of the greatest pop artists in the country; produced with the same feeling and sound that is found on the hit singles of these artists, without losing for a moment the feeling of Christmas, and without destroying or evading the sensitivity and the beauty that surrounds all of the great Christmas music? Until now, perhaps not!”

You said it all, Phil, you crazy dude. It’s the season to be jolly and merry, I know. But what about after you’ve heard the same 20 Christmas songs ad nauseum in every shop, and you’ve just got home and mum’s got the same playlist. Fire up the old youtube and sing a few of these Christmas standards.

Phil Spector’s Christmas album

Since Phil wrote the manifesto, what better way to listen to sleigh bells than drowned in Gold Star Studios reverb? Darlene Love sings White Christmas first up on side one.   

Little Monster Studios - A Very Little Christmas

Sort of in the spirit of Phil Spector but with a bit less reverb and a lot less gun brandishing is Auckland producer Dave Parker’s Christmas album of local bands. The cat-herding-like feat of successfully encouraging sixteen Auckland bands to write original Christmas songs in time to actually record them before December is a bit of a Christmas miracle. They’re good too, songs with enough varied and considered approaches to the Christmas spirit that it doesn’t even hurt to start dusting this thing off in November, or keep listening to a few cuts over summer holidays. Best of all, it’s FREE to download here.

  

Ella Fitzgerald – Jingle Bells

With a song as inescapable as this, you might as well wash out your brain with a good version. Ella Fitzgerald does it as good as anybody, upping the tempo and the swagger so this sleigh ride is a fun jaunt.

Sufjan Stevens and Vito Aiuto – I Saw Three Ships

Renowned tinselphile Sufjan Stevens is a bit of a  maximalist. Now legendary within the independent music world, he recorded an album of tender folk and chamber pop about the state of Michigan, which is impressive enough, but followed it up with one about Illinois. All the while he’s been recording yearly Christmas albums of traditionals and originals, which range from Silent Night to a composition titled Come On! Let's Boogey to the Elf Dance! I’m not going to post the latter, as it activates my humbug reflex, but here he is with the Welcome Wagon’s Vito Aiuto on I Saw Three Ships.

Damien Jurado  - Kalla Hus

From the consistently excellent label Secretly Canadian, Damien Jurado’s brand new track Kalla Hus paints a bleak picture of someone tired of more than just Christmas. It’s not going to be to everyone’s tastes this holiday season, but it’s real to the touch and paints a picture that sadly rings true.  

Okkervil River – Listening to Otis Redding at Home During Christmas

If Damien Jurado got you feeling a little melancholy, then you’re in the right mood for Okkervil River’s regretful introspection over the (romantic) ghosts of Christmas past.

Otis Redding – Merry Christmas Baby

After that last track, it’s really appropriate that we all actually listen to Otis Redding at home during Christmas. Take it home Otis.