A couple of years ago at SXSW, my friend and I were sitting at the back of a venue, trying to decide which showcase to attend next. I felt something brush past my ear, and then watched as a crisp, unfolded piece of paper floated down onto my lap. One sentence was scrawled in pencil across the page: “Have you seen Sufjan Stevens live?” I looked around the room; no one was anywhere near us, nor could it have fallen from the ceiling. It was as if the paper had come from nowhere - a cosmic demand not to be disobeyed. We laughed, and I pinned the note to my shirt. Although this incident took place between the releases of Michigan and Seven Swans, back when Illinoise was just a twinkle in Stevens’ eye, the reaction to that piece of paper was massive; everyone, it seemed, had something to say about seeing Sufjan Stevens live.

Since the Michigan album back in 2003, Stevens has had no shortage of attention paid to him and his work. His famed plan to write an album for each of the 50 states, coupled with his epic songwriting style, has earned him a permanent place in the spotlight over the past few years. His popularity, however, is remarkable for a coulple of reasons. First, although Stevens has received some criticism, particularly after his name was referenced in a popular radio single, the response has generally been hugely positive and from a vast and varied demographic. His sold-out, two-night performance in Austin in September proved that, as the audience seemed to span all ages, races, and lifestyles. Secondly, the Sufjan Stevens phenomenon is one of a few in the loosely-titled “independent” music community to have actually achieved a high level of success without major label help. (Even Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, renowned for “getting big” without being signed to a label, are managed by the general manager of Atlantic Records!) Every aspect of his career has been kept in the family, so to speak. He co-founded his record label, Asthmatic Kitty, with his step-father and a friend. He wrote his own bio and press kits. Even his publicist is a personal friend. Whatever success he has achieved, he has earned himself.

Perhaps it is his approach to making music that sets Stevens apart. In a world overrun by “sensitive” singer/songwriters, Stevens has managed to step outside of the genre, interestingly enough, by failing to meet his own standards. Speaking with Soundcheck, Stevens said, “I have a kind of a folk songwriter foundation, but I have classical aspirations. I find that, in the back of my mind, there’s this sort of staunch, sort of stuck up, maybe very conservative ideology that [classical] music is better - you know, more valuable. But at the same time, at the heart of it, I am just a folk singer. And I’m a very clumsy performer, and I play the banjo and the guitar, which are just folk instruments. And when I open my mouth and sing, it’s not going to be opera; it’s not going to be classical music. So, I’m limited on what I can do vocally, and when I sing, I’m just telling stories… So, it’s just a lot of confrontation between those two aesthetics in my music.”

Whether or not his performance is clumsy, the truth is that, at heart, Stevens is a storyteller, not a performer. He pursued a master’s degree in Creative Writing at The New School for Social Research, and initially just recorded music as a form of amusement. When it became apparent that his writing career would need to take a back seat to his burgeoning music career, he wasn’t particularly interested in performing. “At first it was an obligation… People were inviting me all the time, so eventually I felt obligated. And I had this opportunity to play a festival, or to pay in Norway, or to do this tour, and I was thinking, ‘You can’t pass this up. This is a chance of a lifetime.’” But being a performer still has its drawbacks: He prefers the relative anonymity of a writer to what he calls the “pageantry and celebrity” of the music industry. “I don’t want to invade people’s personal space,” he explains, “I don’t want to be phenomenon; I just want to be a musician.”

And he most definitely is that. The list of instruments he plays is impressive, and anyone who has listened to his music or seen him perform will tell you that he plays them all very well. He attributes his abilities to coming from a large family: “It sort of requires to to find yourself at an early age. You know, find what you’re good at, and work at that thing as much as you can, because there wasn’t enough attention to go around.” He spent most of his childhood writing and playing music, including spending a year at Interlochen Arts Academy studying the oboe, and his time spent playing in the orchestra left an indelible brand on his songwriting; he is known for his woodwind flourishes and swelling strings. His childhood work ethic has left its mark as well; for Stevens, there is always room for improvement. “Right now, I’m sort of in a season of trying to improve as a performer, and learning to master performance, and learning to master an instrument, and to present the songs live in a more sophisticated way… There’s always a certain sense of disappointment that I feel after a tour, because I haven’t performed well, you know, that the songs are never fully realized on stage, and that the recorded songs, or just the songs in and of themselves, are far superior to my performances of them… Because I was so late in performing, because I was always writing and recording, and then I started performing later, I feel like I had to catch up.”

Although Stevens my never meet his own standards, his performances certainly eclipse many of his contemporaries. His most recent tour involved a mini-orchestra of twenty-something clasically trained musicians adorned in Technicolor wings, sporting an impressive, 6-foot wingspan himself. At the Austin performance, he slyly introduced them as “Majesty Snowbird and the chinese Butterfly Brigade.” They then launched into an energetic and emotional set, donning sunglasses during the moments that they felt were particularly cool. And although his admitted awkwardness was apparent, the effect was more endearing than disappointing.

Which brings us back to the original question, asked by that mysterious little piece of paper several years ago: “Have you seen Sufjan Stevens live?” More than likely, you’ll have plenty of chances. If he sticks to his plan, he still has 48 more states to write about, which means at least 48 more tours. And between those tours, who knows what else he’ll be up to? He’s capable of just about anything he sets his mind to.