We Three Kings
Man, this Sufjan fella really likes Christmas, doesn't he? 100 songs in 10 years, leaving no stone unturned––from a traditional reading of “Amazing Grace” on the very first disk of Songs for Christmas to the epic 12-minute opus “Christmas Unicorn” at the end of Silver and Gold, a song which blooms into an exuberant exultation, complete with bells, whistles, and an interpolation of Joy Division's classic "Love Will Tear Us Apart."
The aforementioned “Christmas Unicorn” is dense to the point an entire freaking dissertation has been written about it! While not necessarily dissertation worthy, other tunes like "Christmas in the Room" and "Sister Winter" feel like essential Sufjan originals, on par with his studio album work. Even with his Christmas covers, Sufjan often likes to have fun with them (or to reference a term I read a lot on the internet c. December 2017, subvert expectations), especially on the latter Silver and Gold discs.
"We Three Kings" is not one of those covers. Instead, it's a fairly straightforward rendition released on the third disk on the Songs for Christmas compilation, recorded in December 2003. In the Sufjan Stevens Cinematic Universe Timeline, this comes four months after the release of Michigan, three months before Seven Swans, and 19 months before Illinois. Of all the songs on Disk 3, "We Three Kings" is the closest musical match to Seven Swans and Illinois––it has the bucolic banjo strums of “All the Trees” or “In the Devils Territory.” At the same time, the ambient ending would not sound out of place as a 45-word-titled interlude on Illinois.
Of all popular Christmas carols, “We Three Kings” has always been an outlier, with its 6/8 rhythm and lilting melody, which gives it an exotic flair. Wikipedia says that the carol's melody “highly resembles a song from the Middle Ages and Middle Eastern music, both of which it has been frequently compared to.” Do with that what you will.
In Christian tradition, “We Three Kings” describes the story of Caspar, Melchior, and Balthazar's journey; the Biblical Magi who brought gold, frankincense, and myrrh to the birth of Jesus. The original lyrics contain five verses and a chorus––Sufjan sings only verses 1 and 5 and the chorus, forgoing verses 2, 3, and 4, which are written each from the perspective of one of the Magi.
This lyrical decision to omit those verses makes the song's content more ubiquitous. Sufjan's stylistic choices underscore that feeling of ubiquity; rather than make it about one specific journey, his version uses the framework of the Magi's journey to deliver a more universal message.
While listening to his version of "We Three Kings," I thought long and hard about what I'd talk about. While I often listened to it in preparation and never viewed it as anything less than pleasant, I never really could get an angle on it. Like many things in life, my breakthrough was entirely accidental. While at a red light just minutes away from the laundromat, I added "We Three Kings" to my Spotify queue, but I arrived before it played.
Because it was November, it was already dark when I left the coin laundry. After laundry, groceries, and a long day at work, I had that feeling of just being really damn tired. Halfway along my drive, it was "We Three Kings" turn on the queue, and unexpectedly, the song hit me differently for the first time.
As we all know, the secret ingredient to any great Sufjan song is yearning (as an aside, my all-time favorite Christmas song is “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” by Darlene Love, the ultimate in Christmas yearners. I notice a trend).
Under the streetlights of Winston-Salem, North Carolina, it felt to me like Sufjan, with his ever-earnest vocals, buoyed by organ, banjo, and tambourine, delivered each lyric perfectly, the exact way I needed to hear them. Lines like "Star of wonder / Star of night / Star with royal beauty bright" made me look up at the night sky and filled me with a sense of cosmic wonder and existential yearning. At the same time, "Westward leading / still proceeding / Guide us to thy perfect light" hit close to home in regards to my life journey and how 2020 has felt for me. The real pièce de résistance are Sufjan's pair of wordless "ooh’s” on the track, which carry a well of emotion better than the vast majority of lyrics could.
Here, Sufjan's minimal, pastoral instrumentation makes his version feel down-to-earth as opposed to some massive wall-of-sound pop production, and it's all the better for it. The slow, plodding tempo enhances the song's march-like feeling––the ever-forward path of progress on our own journeys. Each instrument plays its part––the banjo is rustic and personal, the organ adds harmonic texture while the tambourine keeps a simple, plodding rhythm. After 136 seconds, the song breaks down into ambient, random keyboard notes––a moment captured and lost. With these stylistic trappings, "Westward leading / still proceeding / Guide us to thy perfect light" becomes less of a travel narrative for three dudes and more of a life mantra.
Sufjan's understated version shines even further compared to "We Three Kings" performances by other artists; even one of my favorite groups of all time––the Beach Boys––don't quite hit the mark. In their case, the harmonies are pretty but have a jazz sensibility, which, complete with a big band arrangement, loses the flavor of what makes "We Three Kings" unique in the Christmas canon. Other versions suffer from souped-up production, unnecessarily acrobatic vocal performances, or head-scratching stylistic choices.
Sufjan's version shines in its simplicity, capturing the essence of the song and imbuing it with his trademark spiritual folksiness, as well as a universal spiritual power. With everything life can throw at a person, this song is a comforting reminder that it's okay that we haven't made it to the "perfect light." Sometimes, simply "still proceeding" ain't too bad. Thanks for this one, Sufjan.
Alex lives and works in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. While he doesn’t have any current projects to plug, you can follow him on Twitter at @ahotovy.