As unpredictable as so many rock and pop musicians like to view themselves, truly gifted are the ones that can honestly and truly knock listeners for a loop by utterly altering the course of their musical path and do it in such a way that listeners don't think twice when they're asked to follow along. Bob Dylan caused riots when he went electric; he had won a dedicated following in folk audiences as well as attracting new listeners to the genre on the basis of his re-inventions and re-imaginings of that genre, and fans found it totally abhorrent when he seemed to turn his back on them – initially. He continued on and became a wildly successful institution apart from any genre. Since retiring Ziggy Stardust in 1973, every artistic metamorphosis that David Bowie has imposed upon himself has been met with staggering skepticism (never more obviously than went the singer “went DJ” with Earthling) – until fans actually hear the results of the singer's ambition and are won over by the presentation, at which time Bowie finds himself with a completely rejuvenated career – again. Above all others though, Frank Zappa holds a unque place in the realm of re-invention. After building an audience on strong rock chops, a staggering voice in social commentary and an all-consuming faculty for finding the humor and irony inherent to the workings of the human condition, Zappa switched creative horses mid-stream and released Jazz From Hell. Showing a marvelous level of musicianship that, while implied, had never been given enough air before, Zappa spontaneously forced listeners to totally re-examine their image of him as a composer, as a guitar player and as a musician.
In each of those aforementioned cases, while the musicians involved did rejuvenate their careers and did spur new interest in their music with the changes they made, they also introduced another dimension to their public/artistic persona; suddenly their music went from being a pleasurable, occasionally thought-provoking distraction to being something worthy of research, study and dissertation. Those names have become widely respected as those of true artists of music and now, ten years and seven albums after he started, Sufjan Stevens is making his play to join the respected ranks with Run Rabbit Run.
Even with Zappa's famous aforementioned artistic departure in mind though, Sufjan Stevens' Run Rabbit Run qualifies as the biggest of big artistic overhauls of form because, as far as Stevens may have ventured before, nothing about his collaboration with Osso nears any resemblance or similarity to the densely orchestrated but also distinctly low-fi-and-pop strains that brought him to the attention of the record-buying public initially.
Right from the outset, the classically designed, instrumental strains of Run Rabbit Run mark a different, previously unseen side of Sufjan Stevens; the arrangements of these thirteen songs bear no hint of irony or abhorrent wit in the face of tradition in their design, it is simply an exposition of classic orchestration and fine composition at its most intensely schooled. For thirteen songs (in about fifty-four minutes), Osso lilts and screams to Stevens' whim and manages to emote the muse of a pop songwriter in a most intoxicating way; as much an avant-garde composition as it is classically informed (percussive string scrapes on violins and scale dives are not common in even the most avant-classical compositions though) yet, quizzically, Run Rabbit Run holds true to neither form firmly, and chooses to develop its own compositional methodology and cliches instead. This ambition is apparent as early as half-way through the opening “Year Of The Ox” as, with hints of Vivaldi and Rachmaninoff in the wings, Osso injects far more modern performance styles that one might expect to hear in one of Michael Kamen's treatments or even something that might be graced with Danny Elfman's sensibilities. In that way, whether old hand at classical music appreciation or fan of indie rock, “Year Of The Ox” is a rewarding listen.
The trend continues as Osso drags listeners through a gauntlet of emotional states from harrowing panic (“Enjoy Your Rabbit”) to wonderment (“Year Of The Monkey”) to dynamic majesty (“Year Of The Tiger” and “Year Of The Dragon”) to glowing, transcendent joy (“Year Of The Rooster”) and comfort (“Year Of The Dog”) fluidly and easily in such a way that it all fits together easily and makes the argument for Run Rabbit Run as being a single composition with thirteen movements very possible.
Equally possible comes the line of questioning on where the idea for such an album began; because it is so far stylistically from any release that has borne Sufjan Stevens' name before, Run Rabbit Run stands out as a curiosity – where it came from and if it might signal a shift in Sufjan Stevens' future work as a composer suddenly become very valid questions.
Regardless of whether Run Rabbit Run is a one-off dalliance or the beginning of a new season in Sufjan Stevens' career, the answer won't take away from the fine and imaginative craft that the album represents. Like Jazz From Hell was for Zappa, Run Rabbit Run unveils an entirely different set of possibilities (ironically, presented by Osso) for how Sufjan Stevens' work will be viewed from here on out; with such a dramatic shift, the record calls into question what Sufjan Stevens could possibly have up his sleeve for fans next.
Artist:
www.sufjan.com/
www.myspace.com/sufjanstevens
www.myspace.com/ossonyc
Album:
Run Rabbit Run is out now. Buy it here on Amazon .
