This isn't the album I thought it was. It is really quite bad.
Years ago, when I was getting into Sufjan Stevens, my friend Steve told me that The Avalanche, the album of off-cuts and out-takes from Illinois was almost as good as Illinois itself, and every bit as essential (I'd not agree so strongly, but that's a topic for another day); I made a mental note to check it out. I'd got Illinois, Seven Swans and Michigan (in that order) over the course of 15 months, and thought I had a pretty good idea of what Sufjan Stevens was all about. Then I bought his debut album A Sun Came and hated it - it felt like he'd just thrown the music from countless different cultures at a wall to see what sticks. I haven't played it in years. Then he released The Age of Adz, which did equally little for me, but in totally different ways. I did however really enjoy the All Delighted People EP, so it wasn't all bad around then. The point I'm trying to get to is that I don't care for everything that Sufjan has put out and I was kinda burned out from trying by around 2011; perhaps I'd just got the best albums in my first three goes.
I knew there was another early album, but I made no effort to search it out. I can't remember if I'd heard bad things about it or not, or even what it was like, I just couldn't be bothered to check it out at that point. Fast forward to 2016 and Fopp had just opened in Oxford, filling a city-centre-shaped record shop void that had existed since HMV closed down just after I moved here. I went in there and bought a few things, my loyalty still leaning towards Truck Store down Cowley Road. In the racks of vinyl I saw this album and a few things happened: I remembered there was a Sufjan album I didn't have that Steve had said was really good, and I was pleased that there was a double vinyl that I might enjoy for only £11. Somewhere in my mind, I thought this was The Avalanche, despite it clearly not being that record; that is, I thought the album Steve had said was good was this album. I forgot entirely that there was another early Sufjan album I didn't have. This album wasn't the interesting out-takes from a great album; this was in fact 80 minutes of instrumental, electronic ramblings.
How does anyone start their career like this: album of multi-cultural folk songs, album of electronic wank, excellent album of songs about Michigan? It baffles me. The trio of albums I started with - Michigan, Seven Swans and Illinois have so much in common and something you might consider to be the "Sufjan Stevens sound". It's crazy to think that he bounced around wildly for two albums before settling on exactly that sound for the next three.
I must admit, there is the distinct possibility that this is only the second time I've heard these songs. The album came with a download code, but I don't think I've ever hit play on them. There is literally no point in my day when I want to hear this music. Year of the Boar sounds a bit like the crazy and (intentionally)-uneasy listening moments in Clint Mansell's Requiem For a Dream soundtrack, but at least there they're mostly brief moments that you're rewarded for by the way of the incredible music around it. There is no reward on Enjoy Your Rabbit. Every now and again, there are moments or hints of things that are almost enjoyable, but they're hidden deep and don't stay around for long. OK, The Year of the Dragon is quite good, I'll give it that, but that's one song in 80 minutes - a very long 80 minutes
The sticker on the front says this album might be "Sufjan's magnum opus", but the clue should have been that I've never heard of the institution giving the quote. The back of the record says "programmatic songs for the animals of the Chinese Zodiac", where the first word should have been another clue. This album isn't for me.
Format: Double 12", 12" booklet
Tracks: 14
Cost: £11 new
Bought: Fopp, Oxford
When: 01/08/16
Colour: Black
Etching: none
mp3s: Download code
