A haunting, complex elegy: Sufjan Stevens’ ‘Carrie and Lowell’ ten years on

Sufjan Stevens’ latest album, Javelin, was released just two years ago, yet it is the ten-year-old Carrie & Lowell that I continue to return to and see as the true pinnacle of his discography. An exploration of the complicated grieving of his estranged mother, Carrie, who suffered from schizophrenia, depression, alcoholism, and bipolar disorder, Stevens’ 2015 work is a medley of yearning, searching lyricism to the tune of his recognisable minimalist instrumentation. Stevens told Pitchfork: “With this record, I needed to extract myself out of this environment of make-believe… pursue a sense of peace and serenity in spite of suffering. It’s not really trying to say anything new, or prove anything, or innovate. It feels artless, which is a good thing. This is not my art project; this is my life.”

Stevens’ epic metaphors,  allusions to religion, and illustrious natural imagery become grander, all-encompassing messages

Like many others, I was first introduced to Stevens through his contributions to Luca Guadagnino’s Call Me By Your Name (2017) soundtrack. ‘Mystery of Love’ remains one of my favourite songs to-date, and one of Stevens’ most popular. It is in being played over Guadagnino’s delicately-constructed frames that Stevens is at his most quintessentially romantic. As the soundtrack to bike rides across Italian fields, or Timothee Chalamet’s Oscar-nominated mute tears in front of a fireplace, Stevens’ epic metaphors,  allusions to religion, and illustrious natural imagery become grander, all-encompassing messages.

Stevens’ work is always, in my opinion, well-suited to cinema. The popularity of sleeper-hit ‘Fourth of July’ went hand-in-hand with the use of it in fan edits of popular fictional stories. The song is constructed as a conversation between Stevens and his mother as she lies on her deathbed. Stevens hauntingly sings “I’m sorry I left, but it was for the best, though it never felt right”, giving voice to his mother beyond the grave.

Since going viral on TikTok, ‘Fourth of July’ has been streamed over 500 million times on Spotify. It stands out amongst the other songs on Carrie & Lowell, and, on many of my listens, I found it difficult to separate it from its popularity and situate it amongst the other album tracks. Stevens re-released ‘Fourth of July’ as a single in 2022, and it’s impossible for me to see it as anything but the stand-out track on the album.

‘Should Have Known Better’’s instrumentation is more on the up-beat side of Stevens’ discography. Despite this, his lyrics are still concurrent with the album’s generally darker themes

The two lead singles from the original release are ‘Should Have Known Better’ and ‘No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross’, the latter of which I find an interesting choice for a single, particularly given hindsight and the knowledge of ‘Fourth of July’’s potential. It’s nonetheless a devastating tune, the speaker grappling with the incomprehensiveness of their loss, with no shade in the shadow and a ghost for an assassin. Stevens’ typical natural imagery – “In the shade of the meadowlark”– is contrasted with his defeatist, unavoidable reality – “F*ck me, I’m falling apart”.

‘Should Have Known Better’’s instrumentation is more on the up-beat side of Stevens’ discography. Despite this, his lyrics are still concurrent with the album’s generally darker themes: “I should have known better / Nothing can be changed / The past is still the past / The bridge to nowhere”, “no reason to live”. It ends on a higher note as the speaker finds solace in the arrival of the next generation, and the hope of better habits that they bring, in comparison to the “black shroud” of his childhood: “When I was three, three maybe four / She left us at that video store”.

This heartbreaking lament to his lost mother is rife with resignation, framing the album as a portrait of grief that has accepted the physical loss but is still dealing with its implications

Other highlights include personal favourites ‘Death with Dignity’, ‘Eugene’, and ‘John My Beloved’, as well as the popular ‘The Only Thing’.

‘Death With Dignity’ opens the album; Stevens sings “I forgive you, mother, I can hear you / And I long to be near you / But every road leads to an end […] You’ll never see us again”. This heartbreaking lament to his lost mother is rife with resignation, framing the album as a portrait of grief that has accepted the physical loss but is still dealing with its implications. Stevens was estranged from his mother from the age of one, with minimal contact, and he endured a childhood of speculation: “As a kid, of course, I had to construct some kind of narrative, so I’ve always had a strange relationship to the mythology of Carrie, because I have such few lived memories of my experience with her. There’s such a discrepancy between my time and relationship with her, and my desire to know her and be with her.”

‘Eugene’ strays from the central focus of the album (Carrie) and discusses Stevens’ stepfather, Lowell, who makes up the second part of the album’s title. Taking its title from the town in Oregon where Stevens spent his summers, the track is an homage to childhood, and the nostalgia of what has been and gone. “Remember when I pulled at your shirt […] I just wanted to be near you”, “What’s left is only bittersweet / For the rest of my life / Admitting the best is behind me”. The last line of ‘Eugene’ perhaps summarises Stevens’ entire emotional exploration that underpins the album: “What’s the point of singing songs / If they’ll never even hear you?”

With the entirety of this album now certain to turn up on my Spotify Wrapped for 2025, I could go on and on about every song, every line even. This is far from an all-encompassing review, and makes no attempt to hide from my bias toward lyricism over instrumentation. If I could highlight every line of Stevens’ writing that I found touching, the whole album would find itself underlined, just like any good book. All that I can offer is this attempt to cover some of my favourite aspects of Carrie & Lowell and the assurance that if you are looking to get into Stevens’ work, this is your place to start.