This article was originally published in 2020, but we’re updating it for Sufjan Stevens’ birthday on July 1st.
Sufjan Stevens has come to be one of the quintessential voices in contemporary indie rock, but it’s not a title he earned overnight. The songwriter is known for being prolific, having written eight solo studio albums, several collaborative albums, original material for Luca Guadagnino’s 2017 film Call Me by Your Name, and even multiple Christmas albums.
He writes, performs, and records most of the music himself, sometimes playing more than 10 instruments on a single record. He even once vowed to make an album for each of the 50 US states (though, we all know how that turned out). Throughout each of his records, he’s explored banjo-led folk, electro-pop, grandiose indie rock, glitchy experimentalism, and instrumental new-age music. Stevens is the epitome of a musical polymath.
What’s impressive about someone with as many albums as Stevens is that he’s never done the same thing twice. Sure, he’s explored the same genre more than once, but he always surfaces with different results. He’s released electronic records such as Enjoy Your Rabbit and Aporia, but one is a glitchy record revolving around the Chinese zodiac while the other is a new-age-inspired album.
He’s created folk albums like Seven Swans and Carrie & Lowell, but the former was written on banjo and explores his Christian faith while the latter is a personal rumination on the death of Stevens’ mother and the turbulent relationship they had. He’s made two albums entirely about the states of Michigan and Illinois, and the differences between those are fairly evident.
We’re diving headfirst into the songwriter’s mountainous catalog, including his collaborative albums (but not his Christmas albums for obvious reasons). From A Sun Came! to A Beginner’s Mind, here’s our definitive ranking of every Sufjan Stevens album.
— Grant Sharples
12. A Sun Came! (1999)
Runtime: 72:18, 19 tracks
Oh, Great Sights upon This State (Album Art): The original artwork for Sufjan Stevens’ debut is simple and bare: a black-and-white photo of Stevens himself with his name and the album title written in cursive at the bottom. Its 2004 reissue, on the other hand, has way more pomp to it. In this version, a man in a toga (is that Sufjan?) fights off a pink-and-green monster with a spear as the sun rises in the background.
My Little Hawk, Why Do You Cry? (Saddest Song): The characteristically sad songwriter isn’t exactly new to writing songs about unrequited love, and “Dumb I Sound” is a paragon of that. “But you want to be with someone else/ And I can’t believe how dumb I sound/ And I will put my face over the ground and love you,” Stevens croons over a chorus of percussion, recorder, and piano.
Are You Writing from the Heart? (Standout Lyric): “She’ll shoot a super fart/ The deadly silent kind” (“SuperSexyWoman”)
I Can See a Lot of Life in You (Most Underrated Song): A Sun Came! is certainly one of Stevens’ less popular releases, as he would outdo himself on later records such as Seven Swans and Illinois, so you could argue that most songs from this album are underrated. But “Rake” encapsulates the hushed style that the songwriter would come to be known for in his later years. He clearly saw the potential of this song himself, too, as he released a reworked version of it, titled “You Are the Rake,” for A Sun Came’s 2004 reissue.
Is It Real or a Fable? (Best Story Song): Although Stevens is quite the storyteller himself, his musical rendition of an excerpt from William Wordsworth’s autobiographical poem The Prelude is nothing short of alluring. “Wordsworth’s Ridge (For Fran Fike)” tells a tale of the English poet stealing a boat and taking it into a nearby body of water (“I tip my oar to raise the stroke/ The wading swan, the image broke”).
We All Know How This Will End (General Analysis): On the indie artist’s debut, Sufjan Stevens was still finding his footing. A Sun Came! is far from being a bad record, and you can hear the songwriter toying with styles he would subsequently dive into more fully on his later works. Even though this may not be his best album, his blueprint still remains. He plays a sweeping total of 14 instruments here in typical Sufjan fashion, and he merges manifold styles in an eclectic manner, something he would approach with every album following it.
— Grant Sharples
11. Enjoy Your Rabbit (2001)
Runtime: 79:04, 14 tracks
Oh, Great Sights upon This State: Inspired by the cycle of the Chinese zodiac, Enjoy Your Rabbit reflects this conceit on its cover with the title spelled out in gold in both English and Chinese. The key image is all clear-cut colors and familiar shapes: the red silhouette of a bird, drifting against a pale, blue background somewhere above two symmetrical rabbits.
My Little Hawk, Why Do You Cry?: “Year of the Tiger” might be the most somber track, with a melancholy four-note vocal part working as its central motif. Other sounds bubble and burst around these vocals, creating for them an eerie and almost hypnotizing effect.
I Can See a Lot of Life in You: As an all-instrumental electronica record, Enjoy Your Rabbit is not really an album where much of Stevens’ most popular work lives. “Year of the Ox,” though, is a genuinely snappy song with an infectious, serrated rhythm, evolving at the end into a cleansing rush of static.
Is It Real or a Fable?: Enjoy Your Rabbit is all instrumental, so there are no lyrical stories to unpack. But tracks like “Year of the Rat” are notable for their ability to evoke a troubled sense of searching; versions of the same pattern repeat over and over, but gradually build in tone and intensity to a near-hysterical level.
We All Know How This Will End: Enjoy Your Rabbit came before Michigan and Seven Swans, but on a sonic level, with its ability to develop entire themes around glitches and synths, it most feels like a precursor to The Age of Adz. It can feel somewhat inscrutable at times, but even as Stevens’ second album, it spoke early on to his affinity for concept-based work, which would wind up quickly becoming a crucial side to his artistry.
— Laura Dzubay
10. Convocations (2021)
Runtime: 150 minutes, 49 tracks
Oh, Great Sights Upon This State: Convocations’ album cover, similar to the music itself, is stirringly hypnotic and mesmerizing. It’s simple yet evocative with its sky blue backdrop and swirling yellow pattern. This makes for one of Stevens’ more abstract album covers, reflective of the 49 ambient tracks within it.
My Little Hawk, Why Do You Cry?: Stevens’ latest album is a rumination on the five stages of grief, with each of its five volumes dedicated to a different stage. The second volume, Lamentations, focuses on depression, so it only makes sense that a track from Lamentations would hold the saddest material on Convocations. Specifically, “Lamentation III” strikes hardest, emulating the numbness that settles after depression’s initial shock with its sterile synth pads and soft chords.
I Can See A Lot Of Life In You: It’s difficult to pinpoint an underrated track on an album as new as Convocations, but the latter halves of records are more likely to be forgotten. The penultimate track, “Incantation VIII,” doesn’t deserve that fate. Its swooning wash of chords complement the descending melody, which serves as the track’s center of gravity, holding all of its moving parts together.
Is It Real Or A Fable?: Though completely wordless, Convocations follows a narrative arc, traversing universal themes such as loss, family, and community. Revelations, the record’s third volume, likely explores the final stage of grief: acceptance. Even without lyrics, the triumphant arrangements of “Revelation X” suggest an embrace of nature, facing death head-on and accepting the trajectory of life itself.
We All Know How This Will End: Two days after Stevens released The Ascension, his biological father died. Convocations is how the prolific polymath reckoned with his father’s passing, using each of the album’s five volumes to process his own emotions and reactions. Clocking in at two-and-a-half hours with 49 instrumental tracks, Convocations will remain one of the songwriter’s more challenging works, but that only stands as a testament to mirror the challenges Stevens confronted himself while creating this record.
— Grant Sharples
09. Aporia (2020)
Runtime: 42:06, 21 tracks
Oh, Great Sights upon This State: Sufjan Stevens’ collaborative album from earlier this spring has an abstract cover to say the least. With its title at the top and a strange illustration in its center, Stevens and his stepfather, Lowell Brams, are credited on each side of its cover, listed in a stark blue with yellow accents on a blistering orange canvas.
My Little Hawk, Why Do You Cry?: Aporia is one of a small handful of Sufjan Stevens albums that’s primarily instrumental, and only one of its tracks has a couple of stanzas. On top of that, most of this record rings out as hopeful and assured rather than dejected and dreadful, but its penultimate track, “Eudaimonia,” relies on ambient synthscapes and delayed guitar to tell its story. It’s completely wordless, but it feels slightly funereal all the same.
Are You Writing from the Heart?: “Give me a name/ More than a flame/ More than a metaphor/ What are you waiting for, an open door?” — “The Runaround”
I Can See a Lot of Life in You: Stevens and his Asthamtic Kitty co-founder, Lowell Brams, conceived Aporia as a new-age album. It plays like a newly recovered soundtrack to a classic sci-fi film, and “The Unlimited” acts as a thesis statement of sorts. It slowly builds from a humming drone to a triumphant ensemble, and it all fades away in an encompassing wash of white noise.
Is It Real or a Fable?: This nearly instrumental record, despite having few words, brims with a sense of optimism. “Climb That Mountain” suggests as much from its title alone, simulating a journey uphill through its builds and breaks. It starts in a quiet place, gradually adding layers of synths and Stevens’ vocalizations to reach the mountain’s apex.
We All Know How This Will End: Stevens’ collaborative efforts are frequently written off as less interesting than his solo work. Although Aporia might not be as memorable as something like Illinois or Carrie & Lowell, it still serves a purpose. These ambient, ethereal compositions made alongside his stepfather are suited for drifting off into dreams. At once peaceful and jarring, it perfectly sums up the meaning of the word aporia: an irresolvable internal contradiction.
— Grant Sharples
08. Planetarium (2017)
Runtime: 75:59, 17 tracks
Oh, Great Sights upon This State: The cover of Stevens’ collaborative album with Bryce Dessner, Nico Muhly, and James McAlister is a collapsed rendering of our solar system, complete with marbled planets, red flames beneath a black expanse of space, and the four artists’ names side-by-side in small print at the bottom.
My Little Hawk, Why Do You Cry?: There’s no better place to be lonely than this universe. Stevens makes this loneliness felt in “Pluto,” an ethereal serenade for everyone’s favorite not-quite-planet: “Loneliest passageway, orbiting castaway/ Beat your beauty at your breast/ Don’t surprise me, you monster, you mastery/ Make your very last request.”
Are You Writing from the Heart?: “Love, I hold you in as fantasy, blasphemy, fallacy and probably as fate” — “Mars”
I Can See a Lot of Life in You: “Moon” offers an interesting union of Stevens’ storytelling impulses and the existing classical framework of the album, bringing together two indigenous American myths involving rabbits and the moon before moving back into the instrumental territory of chimes and soft, rattling static. Its refrains pull things back into personal territory: “As I’m about to enter your world/ I give you light,” and, “As I’m about to enter the world/ I give you blood.”
Is It Real or a Fable?: Planetarium finds Stevens blending his usual fascination with Christian representations of God with Greek gods and their own stories. In “Jupiter,” these coalesce with the father of the speaker, blending God, Jupiter, and a third father into one blurry, self-adjacent character who stands in the midst of his own journey of understanding: “Outside in the parking lot, the current of wind and the light went hot / He held his head in terror.”
We All Know How This Will End: Stevens had already long been interested in classical, orchestral, and indie rock styles, and on Planetarium he got to expand on that interest in a collaborative venture with innovative and like-minded composers. The result is an album full of echoes, blistering drums, and swells of sound carving out their own shapes amid a lush orchestral canvas.
— Laura Dzubay
07. A Beginner’s Mind (2021)
Runtime: 45:27, 14 tracks
Oh, Great Sights upon This State: The cover of Stevens’s collaboration with Angelo De Augustine features an illustration by Daniel Anum Jasper of a Medusa-like figure standing in a body of water in front of a rainbow. The figure’s wings, the butterfly on their lips, the rainbow, and even the old-fashioned white text of the title are all references to films, which formed a nightly source of inspiration for Stevens and De Augustine while they wrote this album at a cabin in upstate New York.
My Little Hawk, Why Do You Cry?: “Murder and Crime” is one of the most scaled-back songs on the already-soft album, but the compassion that makes Stevens’s songwriting so wrenching peeks through in lines like, “Everything froze like stone, so your heart couldn’t take much more.” But one of the roughest moments comes later, with the fearful confession, “I’m afraid of the light, as the jewel of the mind begins to fall apart.”
Are You Writing from the Heart?: “Am I at rest or resigned from my chaos?”
I Can See a Lot of Life in You: It’s too early to know which tracks will be underrated, but “Lost In the World” carries a great deal of power despite not achieving single status. The simplicity of the lyrics and the intent behind them packs a real emotional punch: “You told me all your dreams would come true/ Well, I hope you’re right and they always do.”
Is It Real or a Fable?: One of the things that makes A Beginner’s Mind great is that these are all story songs — but “Back to Oz” stands out, because the story it tells is the same central narrative that a lot of the songs on this album feel concerned with: a story of delving into the worlds that grant us safety, inspiration, and creation in times when we’re falling apart. This preoccupation returns in “Olympus,” with the line, “There’s no place like home.”
We All Know How This Will End: These songs reach out and yearn for freedom and inspiration, but they do so in full awareness of the context of the chaos and lack of direction that so many people have been feeling lately. The delicate “Cimmerian Shade” offers one fruitful clue as to the album’s conclusions in the line, “Beauty resides where your spirit dwells”; sometimes the places where we search for reassurance and respite in times of uncertainty are reflections of what we truly care about, and what we’re interested in — which imbues them with a beauty which might be completely new.
— Laura Dzubay
06. Michigan (2003)
Runtime: 65:58, 15 tracks
Oh, Great Sights upon This State: The cover for Sufjan Stevens’ third album looks like a postcard straight from its muse, the state of Michigan. It’s adorned with an eastern white pine tree, an apple blossom, and Lake Michigan, all painted by Laura Normandin of Martha Stewart Living.
My Little Hawk, Why Do You Cry?: Michigan’s most personal song is also its most despondent. “Romulus” delves into Stevens’ precarious relationship with his mother, who abandoned him and his siblings at a young age and fled to Oregon. She visits her family in Romulus, but her Chevrolet breaks down while she’s there, and Stevens and his siblings “prayed it’d never be fixed or found,” hoping she’d stay longer.
Are You Writing from the Heart?: “Even if I come back, even if I die/ Is there some idea to replace my life?” — “For the Widows in Paradise, For the Fatherless in Ypsilanti”
I Can See a Lot of Life in You: Stevens and his publicity team may have promised 50 albums about 50 states, but we got only two: Michigan and Illinois. Michigan, in many ways, feels like a precursor to the unadulterated extravagance of Illinois, and that can be most palpably felt in the second track, “All Good Naysayers, Speak Up! Or Forever Hold Your Peace!”. Its 5/4 jaunt and vibraphones, piano, horns, and backup harmonies amalgamate into a buoyant song about governmental failures.
Is It Real or a Fable?: The City of Detroit has experienced both financial prosperity and economic collapse. Nicknamed the Motor City, Detroit was the epicenter of the automobile industry in the mid-20th century. But political negligence led Detroit’s population to exponentially decrease, and it transformed what was “once a great place” to what is “now a prison,” as Stevens sings in “Oh Detroit, Lift Up Your Weary Head! (Rebuild! Restore! Reconsider!)”.
We All Know How This Will End: Although Sufjan Stevens already had two albums under his belt by the time of Michigan’s release, this is the record where Stevens cemented himself in the indie-rock canon. It received the attention it did largely as a result of publicity tactics, but it deserved that attention because it’s an ingenious work overflowing with subtle details and clever references. Michigan is an extraordinarily well-researched project that introduced us to Stevens’ more ambitious side while paying homage to the songwriter’s home state.
— Grant Sharples