Revisiting Sufjan Stevens’ Age of Adz in the era of hyperpop

As I was scrolling through the #sufjanstevens tag on TikTok (as one naturally does), I clicked on a high-quality video in which user @boyjr.69 covers Sufjan Stevens’ indie hit song “Mystery of Love” in the style of 100 gecs. The video, which features hyperpop’s characteristic of heavily distorted vocals and noisy instrumentation, has roughly 185,000 likes and 4,040 comments as of this week.

Among those 4,040 comments was one that stunned me: “100gecs could have written mystery of love but sufjan stevens couldn’t have written money machine.” 

The comment, which was probably the coldest take since the actual ice age, inspired me to revisit Sufjan Stevens’ electronic discography, specifically 2010’s LP Age of Adz. With the ten-year anniversary of Age of Adz’s release this month, it seems fitting to return to the album which was so ahead of its time that it didn’t get the respect it deserved. 

Loosely inspired by the work of artist Royal Robertson, Age of Adz was a radical shift from prior folky albums such as Seven Swans (2004) and Illinois (2005). Banjos are replaced with whooshing synths, and while his characteristic spiritual themes are still present, a rawer, more primal Stevens sings “I’m not fucking around” eighteen times at one point. 

The album begins with “Futile Devices,” a song which can be recognized from the 2017 remix that was featured in Luca Guadagnino’s film Call Me By Your Name. With minimal instrumentation and meticulous fingerpicking, this song most closely resembles his sound on older albums. A quiet, delicate song, Stevens sings “and I would say I love you, but saying it out loud is hard,” setting the tone for the album as one of intimacy and emotion. 

Don’t let the softness of the first track fool you. As soon as “Futile Devices” ends, the listener is transported into an intergalactic rollercoaster of electropop. Both lyrically and sonically, the songs often build into what could become either a panic attack or catharsis, with the accompaniment of both orchestral arrangements and drum machines. 

Love, death, suicide and illness are all themes that twist and bend together as the tracks progress, often intersecting one another in the same song. In title track “Age of Adz,” Stevens’ jarring vocal runs contrast with his signature breathy melodies, shaping the music into a more sculptural, experimental expression of sound. 

The album is one of intentional contradictions. He often blends industrial glitch noise with operatic choirs of voices, and the lyrics make harsh turns from sassy to existential to tender all within a single song.  

The heartbreaking “Now That I’m Older” is a reflection on age and wisdom with a soundtrack that could accompany the descent of angels from heaven, albeit actual biblical angels, the beautiful-yet-terrifying kind. “Vesuvius,” which was sampled in Mac Miller’s hit “Donald Trump” is catchy and driven, creating different textures from its blend of electronics, woodwinds, and choirs. (He also rhymes “Vesuvius” with “Sufjan,” speaking to himself in third person). Penultimate track “I Want To Be Well” marks a descent into chaos as Stevens sings about illness, guilt and fear (this is the track in which he yells “I’m not fucking around” eighteen times). 

However, this all leads up to the final track, “Impossible Soul,” which is what inspired me to write this article. The song is a dazzling epic journey that spans just over twenty-five minutes running time. 

A standout part of the song is Stevens’ use of autotune and vocoder. As his distorted vocals become more robotic, the song becomes more human, eventually enveloping you in the aggressively sweet sing-along chorus of “Boy we can do much more together / It’s not so impossible.” 

The electronics bubbling and burst forth as the song propels you forward, and eventually calms down for the final part of the song, which returns to the plucking and softness of “Futile Devices.” As the uplifting chorus gets replaced by the refrain “Boy, we made such a mess together,” the album concludes on a melancholy and poignant note, coming full circle. 

Upon its release, Age of Adz was met with acclaim, but was deemed “too much” and “trying too hard” by some critics. Fast forward to 2020, where the age of hyperpop PC music and musical excess reigns supreme. If Age of Adz was “too much” in 2020, it certainly satisfies today’s need for overstimulation. The success of artists such as Dorian Electra, Slayyyter, and 100 gecs proves that popular music has transcended simplicity and now favors electronic excess. 

You might say Sufjan Stevens walked so 100 gecs could run, but it seems more likely that Stevens was sprinting all along. 

Written by Noah Larsen