Sufjan Stevens is one of the only contemporary and relevant musicians who can get away with releasing 10 Christmas Albums, a large percentage of which are his own material, while managing to remain incredibly awesome. Perhaps it’s because his biblical references are both accepted and appreciated by even his most atheist of fans, is why the indie-idol can blaze his Christmas trail, and I most certainly am not complaining.
An admittedly recent fan (I didn’t get my hands on The Age of Adz until August 2011), when I first found out that Sufjan was touring this winter, I was stoked. It wasn’t until after my main squeeze ordered tickets that we realized the show would actually be a Christmas sing-a-long.
Skeptical at first, I adorned my jingle-bell earrings and headed out in the post-Thanksgiving chill through the streets of DC to witness Sufjan’s spectacle. Like Ralphie with his Red-Rider, the moment I entered the 9:30 Club I was mesmerized. After scanning my ticket I was handed a pamphlet labeled Christmess (yes, MESS) Sing-A-Long, that contained the lyrics to various common Christmas songs. As my extremities began to thaw, I was overwhelmed by the environment around me. The stage was sprinkled with Christmas magic, lights hanging from the rafters of the venue itself. With the stage full of garland I half expected snow to start flurrying down as if I were in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Then I finally took in the enormous Wheel of Christmas, which is exactly what you’d imagine: a Wheel of Fortune-style and sized wheel with slices labeled as select Christmas songs (notably “Sleigh Ride,” labeled “Slay Ride”).
Seeing a wheel that size without Pat Sajak at its side, I started to feel giddy. Surrounded by Santa hats and ugly Christmas sweaters, the second Sufjan came on stage with his Christmas cape and just as festive band, the same feeling I get on Christmas morning grabbed hold of my chest. Remembering the one year my siblings and I walked around our neighbourhood caroling, I pocketed that song-book, not needing help recalling lyrics engrained in me since infancy. I stomped my feet and clapped my hands to the Christmas songs I knew and those originals of Sufjan’s that I did not.
Tearing up during “Sister Winter,” and “Auld Lang Syne,” the atmosphere of the venue was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. Very few people were hinged behind cameras or iPhones, trying to memorialize the experience. There was no way the aura of the room could ever be captured. The energy was raw, everyone’s attention on the sights on stage and the electricity around them to the point where there was immense unity. Whether it was true Christmas Spirit sinking in, or the mystical entrancing powers of Sujfan himself, the show was nothing short of magic, in a Rudolf-type way.
The greatest surprise of the evening was, “Christmas Unicorn.” I’d never heard the single before, despite Sufjan’s Christmas Compilation: Silver and Gold being released several weeks prior, but the release is probably my newest favourite Christmas song. Reigning in at over 11 minutes, blow-up unicorns rained down from the landings above us, as confetti began to swirl like we had just been caught by a blizzard with the Abominable Snowman in the Himalayas.
That’s when the envy set in. Sufjan gets to experience that Christmas feeling for an entire month, and then he even gets the real thing. But I’m not even mad; if anything I’m eternally grateful. I got the gift of Christmas early this year, and Sufjan’s only left me pining for more.
Kelly Barton is a contributing editor for the Rutgers Review.