Ratings Key

0.0-2.5/Frisbee

Sufjan Stevens

Released: Aug. 21

8.9/10.0

What better way to prove the world isn’t a messy, tangled, revolting blob of coincidence and meaningless chance than by arranging an epic, baroque composition of indie pop and exclaiming your achievement to said world?

Sufjan did it. It’s the 11-and-a-half-minute opener to his hour-long, suddenly-released-without-any-previous-indication-on-Saturday double-LP EP, “All Delighted People.”

Wait a minute, a double-LP EP? Shave “All Delighted People (Original Version)” and the whopping 17-minute closer “Djohariah” off each end, and you’re left with 30 minutes of tunes, a proper amount for an EP.

But to do that would eliminate the Michigan songwriter’s newfound greatest strength: his ability to construct epic, climactic songs — full of so much beauty and wonder — tailor built for his signature whispery vocal performance.

The ending of “All Delighted People (Original Version)” gives the frenetic, violin-charging finish of “A Day in the Life” a run for its money. Seriously, The Beatles, but way more ornate.

The whole song is lovingly arranged, with climaxes of horn arrangements, apocalyptic banjo interludes and plenty of the backing strings and electronic elements you’d expect from the songwriter who once gave you “Chicago.”

Stevens has long been interested in the existential and spiritual, even before exploring the transfiguration of Christ and recording worship songs on 2004’s sparse, intimate “Seven Swans.”

In both arrangements of “All Delighted People” (there’s a “Classic Rock Version” complete with a guitar and electro freak-out), he reviews his decisions, questions meaning and even offers a shout-out to Simon and Garfunkel — all sentiments that echo throughout the remainder of the record.

But all is not lost and in the dark. Halfway through his dream, a light is lit by a neon God as everybody bows down to pray and Sufjan takes refuge in the arms of his God: “I tried my best, I tried in vain, do you love me a lot? Do you love me from the top of your heart?”

Happy piccolos whistle as he walks hand-in-hand with this God, comforted by omnipotent power. “What difference does it make if the world is a mess?” he asks.

“I tried my best, I trained in vain, oh but the world is a mess,” he moans as violins shriek and big, orchestral drums summon up God’s thunder around him.

The remainder of the album seeks to sort through some of these finer feelings. “Arnika” explores existential exhaustion, and the little gem “Heirloom” is a soft and lovely song of helping others through the same.

But the strength of the album rests firmly upon its bookends: the epics. Sufjan gets existentially lost, but in the best way, channeling the experience into this newfound musical venue.

The EP caps off with “Djohariah,” allegedly named for Sufjan’s sister. Like “Sister” from “Seven Swans,” the track just builds on louder waves of choral aahs and guitar work until nearly five minutes in when Djohariah, his sister’s name, becomes clear in the mix. He finally starts singing with five minutes left in the track, encouraging his sister to leave her room and take joy “for the woman is the glorious, victorious mother of the heart of the world,” backed by an electronic beat and hand claps.

It’s as weird as it sounds, but in a way that’s elegant and overwhelming. As though it’s from far away, like Jónsi and Sigur Rós. But Sufjan’s not from Iceland. He’s an angel from above.

-MC

Ra Ra Riot

Released: Today

8.5/10.0

No band’s identity has been marked with melancholy to quite the degree Ra Ra Riot’s has.

Not only do the Syracuse, N.Y., sextet’s sorrowful strings and morose arrangements bring about a bit of sadness, but the band’s buzz rose right along with the news that John Pike — Ra Ra Riot’s chief lyricist and drummer — had died in a tragic accident.

And while “The Rhumb Line” searched inward for resolution, “The Orchard” seemingly has found that sense of peace, as evidenced by a bouquet of garden hymns and ever-blooming melodies.

As though it was a somber, but cheery, celebration with friends, Ra Ra Riot’s second proper release pops with color, blossoming at every turn.

The quaint self-titled track plucks the album to life with an elegant, Victorian charm before launching into a cascade of spirited singles and choruses.

“Boy” pushes the brilliant string duo of Alexandra Lawn and Rebecca Zeller to new heights with a precise, reverberating bass shuffle, while lead singer Wes Miles shines in the upbeat, shimmering “Too Dramatic,” a balance of porcelain coos and choppy, airy chants.

The triumphant pairing of “Shadowcasting” and “Do You Remember” recovers from a casual swoon — brought about by the cyclic “Massachusetts” and ambling “Foolish” — with “Kansai” whirling in with a tightly orchestrated chamber poppiness afterward.

The starry “Keep It Quiet” brings the evening to a close in a delicate, restrained manner, capped by an echoing, definitive thud.

Chris Walla (Death Cab for Cutie) does a great job pushing the performers in their craft, but also lifting the expansive sound — buoyed by the string section and baroque arrangements — beyond any restraints that had previously shackled the band.

Ra Ra Riot’s lofty melodies soar higher than ever — mimicking a bird that has just been freed from its cage — both in sound and emotion. The strings fly higher, the vocals reach further and any burden of sadness has been shed far below.

-JB

!!!

7.6/10.0

!!! (pronounced chk chk chk) is one of a kind, a group influenced by post-punk riffs just as much as glammed-up electro jams.

“Strange Weather, Isn’t It?” follows along those lines, with even more diverse offerings and assemblies of inspirations.

The group’s fourth disc melds along with previous efforts, just as layered and intricate as ever. Though the album is relatively straightforward in its chic, hypnotic dance aspirations, !!! opts to amass its music in a cluster of disco hooks, hyperspace echoes and swanky blues grooves.

With an endless array of twists and turns with no apparent beginning or end, the product begins to resemble an M.C. Escher drawing — controlled chaos observed from a static viewpoint.

At just nine tracks, “Strange Weather” skirts the droning sensation you often get from six-minute dance anthems, no doubt in part thanks to its ever-revolving set of styles that mesh in a fresh manner with each submission.

“Wannagain Wannagain” brings about a harsh ’90s house music vibe, while “Steady As The Sidewalk Cracks” simmers with Latin flavor, a sizzle of vanishing, shuttering guitars and loose, carefree choruses.

The dangerous “Jamie, My Intentions Are Bass” bounces like a Bond villain, but it’s the thudding, ruthless “The Hammer” that grips your hips and gets you moving more than any other.

!!! lacks a certain repeat value that makes for a truly great dance record, and the album lacks any connection deeper than its dance-hall facade. But the admirable craftsmanship and tempting hooks make “Strange Weather” worth a listen, and fans of the band have no reason not to love what !!! does here.

“You can change the station. There’s just no replacement,” front man Nic Offer chants in “AM/FM.”

That pretty much hits the nail on the head.

-JB

Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin

7.9/10.0

Once a name is out there — and more importantly, familiar to people — there really is no changing it. Which is a shame, because Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin just doesn’t really suit this Springfield, Mo., four-piece.

A name like Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin points to a band that is chocked full of eccentricities, who would hardly craft anything resembling what should be on the radio, but that is exactly what SSLYBY (whew) does.

Any quirk the group had was purged in its debut, “Broom,” while the bedroom musings in its follow-up, “Pershing,” hinted at the direction “Let It Sway” took off in: alterna-pop.

Sounding much like Weezer and Semisonic when they were on top of their games, SSLYBY’s junior effort cranks things up to 11 (OK, six), ratcheting up a bevy of power-pop anthems meant to please the masses.

The quartet gets all “Buddy Holly” on “Banned (By the Man),” maintained by a steady stream of fuzzy guitar riffs and carefully constructed breakdowns. “Sink/Let It Sway” takes that formula and adds an impossibly smooth slur of optimistic lyrics and sunny drum bursts.

In addition to cranking up the volume, the band introduces slight Southern inspirations in the twangy “My Terrible Personality” and appropriately titled “Back in the Saddle.”

All the songs make for easy pills to swallow. The production ear of indie-pop aficionado Chris Walla (Death Cab For Cutie) only helps, and his guidance sets SSLYBY on a clear path.

Arguably, some of the charm of “Pershing” is lost in the translation. The band had already nailed the slow, subtle ballads that most bands of this sort struggle with but doesn’t pack any along for “Let It Sway.”

But the vintage guitar melodies and dazzling simplicity are charming enough to make one overlook most of the faults … including the name.

-JB

— Matt Carney, professional writing senior

— Joshua Boydston, psychology junior.