Has Seattlest mentioned that we are in love with Sufjan Stevens? Yes, we love him, but it's totally not in a sexual way. Though we certainly appreciate his boyish good looks (and nicely toned arms), for us to touch someone with such wide-eyed childlike wonder would surely make us a pedophile. More than anything, we'd love to hold him close to our bosom, thereby protecting him from the cold, cruel world. Still, when a man attempts a project even he knows he's not going to finish---creating an album per state of the union, and on each chronicling the state's feel via extensive research, personalized lyrics, and elaborate folk orchestration---well, we kinda hafta fall in love with him. Especially when he chooses as his second state the place of our birth, and the big single off the album is about our hometown.

Seattlest had seen Sufjan the last time he was in town (last July at the Triple Door), and then he pretty much played exclusively from Illinois. Meanwhile, last night at the Paramount, on a stage strewn with blow-up Santas and Supermen, he continued his focus on Illinois, while also playing selections from Michigan, Seven Swans, and some new tracks, which were mostly about birds. Perhaps due to the aviary theme, his ever-growing, merry throng of musicians (a year ago, he was at ten, but now he's up to fifteen, including a full string section and three horns) took their place on the stage with butterfly wings on their back and feathery Mardi Gras masks over military/scout uniforms. Sufjan himself had the most elaborate wings of all, rainbow-hued and, ahem, spread-eagled. Eventually, he would introduce himself as the "Captain of the Eagle Singers," accompanied by the "Butterfly Kite Brigade." As he sang and played the piano (or the banjo, or the guitar...), his wings would flap behind him with his movements. Few men could pull this off without appearing completely ridiculous, but for Sufjan it works, primarily because he looks just so goddamn earnest.

And then there's his music: "The Man of Metropolis" started out with a few bars of the Superman theme before members of the band threw the blow-up dolls into the audience. He dedicated Michigan's "Oh Detroit, Lift Up Your Weary Head" to the Tigers, who are "pretty awesome." He told a long-ass childhood summer camp story that somehow led into "The Predatory Wasp," which, with the full orchestration, becomes truly transcendant. Look, if there's one thing Sufjan knows how to do well, it's building a song up from quiet beginnings to swollen-to-the-point of bursting to flat-out noise before then bringing it back to calm. The audience was quiet and respectful. Not as crazy-adoring-reverent as at Sigur Ros, but often absolutely silent during songs until the pause afterwards. This was well demonstrated by the hush over the entire crowd during Sufjan's always subdued, pretty/creepy take on John Wayne Gacy.

He played his NPR-commisioned bird song ("The Lord God Bird") and another bird track, "Majesty Snowbird." We hadn't heard the latter, with its "la-la-di-da"s and high notes that Sufjan can't quite hit. On anyone else, we would consider a weak falsetto to be a drawback, but on Sufjan, it's completely endearing. The fact that he's always going to try for those high notes, even though he's not always going to hit 'em, makes him that much more precious. Those same high notes are featured on "Casimir Pulaski Day," when, after the narrator's young friend dies of bone cancer on the titular holiday, the fragile, mournful vocals followed by the band's swelling strains were completely overwhelming and had us in tears. On the other hand, "The Tallest Man, The Broadest Shoulders" inspired handclaps from the audience, even without explicit instruction to do so. Brilliant! Capping things off, encore "Chicago" inspired lots of fervent, whispered singing in the audience and some full-blown swaying. Nearly two hours and two standing ovations later, Sufjan was done. And we really couldn't love him much more.