In a recent interview, Sufjan Stevens not only revealed that his 50 states project is, “a total joke” but also showed some pretty severe disillusionment with the state of releasing music today. The former statement isn’t a surprise, given that the premise likely started out as a joke and then simply took off with a mind of its own (especially when it’s such an audacious and interesting idea), but I can actually identify with the latter, having worked on a musical project for several years while recently finding myself wondering how in the heck there’s any way it will find a foothold in the world of incredibly disposable downloads.

For example, I’ve talked to people who download entire albums, then discard the files entirely after skimming through the album only once. It sounds unfair, and as a musician myself it pains me to think that if I ever get to releasing something else, I’ll at best have 10 minutes or so of non-uninteruppted time to make an impression. The act of playing a record (and heck, even a CD) demands a bit more attention, but digital files can be downloaded, skimmed, and tossed in the same amount of time that it would take to look over the physical selection and check out at a real life music store. Attention spans are waning and getting gobbled up by more media every day, and the landscape of music is still in serious flux, but that’s how it goes I suppose.

Instead of continuing my tangent, I’m going to get back to Stevens’ The BQE, as it’s a much different release than he’s done to date. Commissioned by Brooklyn Academy of Music, the release (BQE stands for Brooklyn-Queens Expressway) was originally performed in the Howard Gilman Opera House in celebration of the 25th anniversary Next Wave Festival in October of 2007. An entirely instrumental offering, the forty minute suite includes some familiar Stevens’ sounds, but also veers off into exciting new territory in places, making one long for a return from the artist.

Given the behemoth-like monstrosity that is the Expressway, there are only a couple cuts on the release that sound suitably monolithic and uncaring. Opener “Prelude On The Esplanade” groans with string drones and some subdued feedback that sounds like it could explode into a Rhys Chatham like fury at any point (but it never does), while “Interlude I: Dream Sequence In” morphs from a sort of fairytale wordless vocals and delicate strings and bells opening (that has a hint of Danny Elfman) into a sprawling caterwaul of guitar feedback and offsetting string and horn stabs that hint at something darker.

Of course, from there, it’s onto the best two pieces on the entire release. “Movement III: Linear Tableau With Intersecting Surprise” takes some of the familiar sounds from the more epic pieces of Stevens’ past work and melts them down into four concise minutes of minimalism-inspired horn and woodwind melodies that dance across one another in delightful ways. By the time sparkling chimes and some minimal percussion hits, it’s reached a dizzying high without ever really having much of a low-end punch.

“Movement III: Linear Tableau With Intersecting Surprise” – Sufjan Stevens

That’s where the following “Movement IV: Traffic Shock” picks up, though, as it completely shifts the mood of the album. Whereas the entire release up to that point had been orchestral. This track falls off to pure almost pure electronics to start, with gurgling synths and programmed beats that eventually get their rough edges filled in with the more traditional instrumentation. The shift is dramatic (and after the track is over, it goes right back to the more traditional instrumentation), but the change in mood is dramatic and welcome. It also brings back some sounds that Stevens himself hasn’t really explored since Enjoy Your Rabbit, albeit in a much more epic way.

“Movement IV: Traffic Shock” – Sufjan Stevens

The rest of the release is quite solid, veering from Vince Guaraldi-style piano and drums jaunts (“Interlude III: Invisible Accid”) to almost Carl Stalling delirium (“Movement VII (Finale): The Emperor of Centrifuge”).

I also have to give credit to Stevens on the packaging and presentation of The BQE is quite cool, at least in the CD/DVD version. Not only do you get the CD of music and a booklet of nearly indecipherable graffiti scrawlings and photos, but a DVD with some semi-abstract shots of the BQE mixed with hula hooping and a viewmaster reel. It’s all a bit on the artsy side of things, but it actually works quite well, and given that most music releases these days are just a CD in a plastic box, it’s something a bit different that actually makes it worth having over the digital version.

(buy The BQE from amazon.com)
(buy The BQE from Asthmatic Kitty Records)

1. Sontal Says:
   November 26th, 2009 at 3:08 pm

   Well, even though I get your point, I don’t agree with the negative perspective towards the new era of digital downloadings and their disposable nature. As with most of things, It is actually up to us to define and choose the way we will manage these means. Just because we can, doesn’t mean that we necessarily have to treat mp3s like a worthless piece of information. If we choose to spare just 10 minutes to appreciate art, we would most probably do the same in most other conditions, because that would be our general attitude. The practical convenience that mp3s offer doesn’t really spoil us…it is our already spoiled nature that finds a more “hospitable” place to unfold. Don’t mind about those fool who act like this…there are still people who know how to enjoy truly a beautiful piece of art, regardless the general tendencies.