( continues...) Stevens has found that his most satisfying songs, the ones that are concise and straightforward, only feed his original ambition.
"They show me how much I want to start writing fiction again…. I think it's possible, but I think I need to take a sabbatical. Writing is a much more difficult, much more sophisticated form than songwriting. Because it cannot be immediately satisfying, it doesn't appeal to the senses the way music does. It requires an investment through the years, and I think therefore it asks for a lot more work, a lot more discipline."
Stevens, who names Anton Chekhov, Flannery O'Connor and Saul Bellow among his favorite authors, grew up in northern Michigan, and after college he moved to New York to study writing at the New School for Social Research, aiming to be the Faulkner of the Great Lakes State. He later taught writing at adult night school and held day jobs in the publishing business.
His musical education was spare. He studied oboe for a year as a child and fell in love with baroque music, especially opera. At home he heard folk and pop music by Ry Cooder, Nick Drake, Neil Young and the Beatles from his stepfather's record collection, but as a teenager it was just '80s Top 40. He says he's never owned a stereo.
Still, he always dabbled in music, and he released a couple of experimental albums, "A Sun Came" in 2000 and "Enjoy Your Rabbit" in 2001. When "Michigan" generated offers for tours and requests for interviews, he felt compelled to make a full-time commitment to music. He quit his job as a designer at Time Inc.'s children's books division and a month later found himself on tour in Europe.
With the acclaim escalating, he can expect the sharks to be circling. You don't get a four-star lead review in Rolling Stone without catching the eye of major labels who'd love to snap up your potential.
But Stevens says he's not too distracted by that.
"Most people know that I'm very comfortable and happy with my work right now and with my relationship with my label. I'm like incredibly pragmatic. I'm very utilitarian about how I do everything, and I like to make sure that I'm not working beyond my means, and I'm not ever being pushed to do things that are unnatural or that are out of my range."
That sounds good, but is it really pragmatic to commit to a project that figures to occupy you for 48 more years, assuming you turn out your state albums at an annual rate?
"Everyone seems really concerned for me now about the prospect. They use this word 'daunting' all the time," says Stevens, who now seems to be backtracking a bit, musing about franchising the idea to other bands.
"Of course I'm not gonna finish it," he says with a hint of a smile.
"But I think it's a good exercise for now. Maybe 10. I'll do 10. Let's say that."