A provocative musical advent calendarโ€ฆ

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Like the indie equivalent of the Queenโ€™s Speech, beamed in from Brooklyn rather than Buck House, Sufjan Stevensโ€™ seasonal message-in-music has become something of an institution. Silver And Gold is a companion to his 2006 Yuletide box-set Songs For Christmas Vols. 1-5, and collates the five Christmas EPs Stevens released annually between December 2006 and December 2010.

In total there are 58 songs, ample indication that this project is much more than an extended joke. Stevens is a Christian who believes โ€œweโ€™ve made Christmas our bitchโ€, and this music, though frequently playful and dusted in silliness, ultimately has a serious, sincere purpose in attempting to divine meaning from the blizzard of confusing and contradictory signifiers โ€“ religion, consumerism, pop culture, family, magic, tawdry reality โ€“ which make it such a disorientating time of year.

The intent is mirrored in the scope of the material, which encompasses secular 20th-century standards, ancient seasonal hymns, classical pieces and bespoke originals. Featured composers include John Dowland, Robert Burns, Janรกฤek, Jerry Hermann, Joy Division, Bach and Sammy Cahn; collaborators include members of The National and Arcade Fire. Thereโ€™s some latitude in the song selections โ€“ Iโ€™m not sure how Princeโ€™s โ€œAlphabet Stโ€ qualifies, but Iโ€™m glad it does โ€“ and times when Stevensโ€™ seems to bend the concept towards a more general purpose. โ€œBehold! The Birth Of Man, The Face Of Gloryโ€ and โ€œEven The Earth Will Perish And The Universe Give Wayโ€ are not only archetypal Stevens song titles, but either could hold their own on Seven Swans or Illinois.

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As he ping-pongs between childlike wonder, solemn contemplation, comedy, devotion, pastiche, mysticism and plain nonsense we gain insights into both Stevensโ€™ core creative concerns and his artistic evolution over the past few years. The earliest EP, โ€œGloriaโ€, is the most folky and straightforwardly beautiful, featuring a handful of terrific collaborations with Aaron and Bryce Dessner from The National. The lilting โ€œCarol Of St Benjamin The Bearded Oneโ€ rather movingly recalls โ€œthe way he brushed his beard against the cedar treeโ€, while anyone who has ever wondered what constitutes a โ€œLumberjack Christmasโ€ will find their answer.

The second EP, โ€œI Am Santaโ€™s Helperโ€, deliberately goes to extremes, alternating between sacred classical works (including a glorious reading of 17th century German hymn โ€œAh Holy Jesusโ€) and increasingly skittish, deconstructed versions of the classics of the genre. Fancy hearing โ€œJingle Bellsโ€ restyled as a Pixies demo with a kids chorus? Or โ€œWe Wish You A Merry Christmasโ€ featuring a drunken oompah band apparently playing underwater? Or โ€œHark The Herald Angels Singโ€ set to a backing track which appears to involve โ€œHeroinโ€ and โ€œBaba Oโ€™Rileyโ€ colliding in the snow? Look no further. The later EPs, meanwhile, point towards the more experimental machine music of Stevensโ€™ last album proper, 2010โ€™s The Age Of Adz: โ€œGood King Wenceslasโ€ and โ€œDo You Hear What I Hear?โ€ celebrate Christmas Kanye style, all blippy electronics, crunched beats and vocoder-treated vocals.

Woven amongst all this is a generous number of Stevensโ€™ originals, not always notable but lovingly rendered. โ€œDing-A-Ring-A-Ling-A-Ringโ€ (โ€œBaby Jesus is a king-a-ling-a-ling-a-lingโ€) is a brilliantly sloppy T. Rex pastiche and the squelchy synth motif in โ€œAngels We Have Heard On Highโ€ jauntily doffs its Santa hat to Maccaโ€™s โ€œWonderful Christmastimeโ€, but there is poignancy, too, in โ€œChristmas In The Roomโ€ โ€“ โ€œitโ€™s just the two of us this yearโ€ โ€“ and the bleached bad vibes of โ€œHappy Karma Christmasโ€. The entire affair concludes, epically, with โ€œChristmas Unicornโ€, a kind of cosmic manifesto disguised as a childrenโ€™s song which incorporates โ€œLove Will Tear Us Apartโ€ into its climax. Well, why not.

Something for every conceivable Christmas, in other words, but even ignoring the tinsel trim Silver And Gold is another persuasive testament to Stevensโ€™ multi-faceted talents. Inspired, frustrating, wayward, indulgent, funny, heartfelt and eclectic, taken in one sitting itโ€™s far too much, like gorging on the most excessive turkey dinner with all the trimmings. In smaller doses, however, itโ€™s more like a musical advent calendar, almost every song offering a fresh and sometimes provocative window on a well-worn theme.

Graeme Thomson