The Lowdown: Sufjan Stevens is difficult to pin down. Heâs explored seemingly endless genres, from the experimental glitchiness of Enjoy Your Rabbit to the celebratory indie rock of Illinois and the melancholy folk of Carrie & Lowell. With Aporia, an album made with his stepfather and Asthmatic Kitty Records co-founder Lowell Brams, the two musicians veer into ambient, instrumental pieces. The pair crafts complex synthscapes, relishing in getting lost in the peaceful tension. Across 21 tracks, Stevens and Brams mark their footing in the formless.
The Good: Sometimes, ambient music can sound homogenous. It can become self-indulgent with its endless supply of reverb and synth pads, but only if itâs done without an attuned ear for subtlety and dynamics. Aporia surfaced as a result of jam sessions between Stevens and Brams in Stevensâ New York home, and the two of them kept âthese little magical moments.â Having developed a sharp sense for the majestic, the creative pairâs compositions sound distinct while simultaneously forging a composite whole. The sweeping white noise that sets up opener âOusiaâ is counteracted by the brisk, jutting percussion of the following track, âWhat It Takesâ. The deft, arpeggiated synths and steady rhythmic backbone of âCaptain Praxisâ complement the hazy atmosphere and modulated guitar in âEudaimoniaâ.
Aporia is more than a collaboration between Stevens and Brams, though. It features the likes of The Shinsâ Yuuki Matthews, Sun 0)))âs Steve Moore, and Half-handed Cloudâs John Ringhofer to name a few. This collective effort creates a sense of differentiation among these synthscapes as each piece contains elements that are unique to that piece alone. The word âaporia,â meaning âan irresolvable internal contradiction,â represents the duoâs ethos behind the record. Though Aporia is overall quite peaceful, there are moments of brashness and tension, and itâs through these internal contradictions between tension and release that Aporia distinguishes itself.
The Bad: The duoâs record consists of several brief passages that act more so as transitions than pieces that stand on their own. Although âPalinodesâ and âFor Raymond Scottâ ease Aporia along, they also feel unnecessary, and their omission would trim some fat from an already ambitious work. Nearly all of the album is instrumental as well, save for a couple of stanzas in âThe Runaroundâ and vocalizations in âClimb That Mountainâ. Given Stevensâ magnificent voice and poetic lyrics, itâs surprising and disappointing that they werenât put to greater use. At the same time, it makes these moments, particularly in âThe Runaroundâ, feel special, and it makes the rest of Aporia sound more cohesive. The lyrics in âThe Runaroundâ also add to the surrealist nature of the album, with Stevens asking for âmore than a metaphorâ and to âsend [him] a reservoirâ as a group of motorcyclists pops wheelies in the songâs music video.
The Verdict: Described by Stevens and Brams as a New Age-inspired album, Aporia accomplishes exactly that, functioning as a recovered soundtrack to a long-lost, fictitious sci-fi film. Itâs interesting to hear Stevens follow up his most tactile, accessible record yet with an album as ambitious and atmospheric as Aporia. Itâs clear that these tracks arenât as memorable as âFourth of Julyâ or âThe Only Thingâ, but that doesnât mean this record is any less fulfilling. Aporia isnât meant to be a collection of songs; itâs amorphous music for daydreaming.
Essential Tracks: âOusiaâ, âThe Runaroundâ, and âEudaimoniaâ
Album Review: Sufjan Stevens and Lowell Brams Design an Atmosphere for Daydreaming on Aporia
Matt Melis