Most albums require months of hype, anticipation and advertisements before they are released. Artists need to prepare fans to be ready to purchase their albums, drilling release date after release date into the minds of children, teenagers and adults alike. It's a good thing that Sufjan Stevens doesn't operate like most artists.This past week has been the week of surprises for fans of the odd, interesting and multitalented artist. On Aug. 10, after five years without an official album release, Stevens, without any warning or speculation, released an EP entitled All Delighted People. This EP is a 60-minute, eight-track creative piece with song lengths spanning from 2 minutes, 57 seconds to 17:03. Those concerned by the extended running times of many songs (three of which are over 9 minutes) should be comforted to know that from 45 seconds up to 17 minutes, Stevens consistently delivers one of the most interesting sounds in the music industry-a booming mash-up between orchestral masterpieces, calming guitar and experimental chaos.

All Delighted People is based around two incarnations of the title track: the 12-minute original and the 8-minute classic rock version. It is amazing to listen to how Stevens is able to take the exact same song and create two extremely different songs, emotions and understandings out of it. He proved his abilities to do so with his most famous song, "Chicago," (my favorite is titled "the Multiple Personality Disorder version") and he has done it yet again.

As an artist, Stevens' style is unmistakable. As I pressed "play" on the album and the solemn chorus of voices began with a soft "doo" while a comforting, familiar yet eerie voice played over my speakers, I instantly knew that I was listening to one of the most interesting people in modern music.

As the track progresses, it shifts through various musical incarnations. Electric instruments mix and meld with orchestra ensembles of horns, trombones, cymbals and electric recording equipment, which results in a beautiful mess that only Stevens could achieve. The constant shift in music from simple to convoluted, clean to messy, ordered to random, works so well it almost feels unintentional. Yet it effectively keeps the listener interested and alert throughout the entire 11:40 song. This is Stevens' art-making something so simple out of a mass of complexity. It feels like a mix between the sweet simplicity of "Chicago" with the indie orchestra art of his BQE project. Stevens' technique is unlike oil and water: though the individual aspects don't inherently go together, Stevens creates a perfect mix that works both separated and stirred.

Though he repeats many lines, such as the line, "Oh I love you a lot/oh I love from the top of my heart," he manages to take the words from a chorus backed with simple guitar to a staccato fairy-tale sound only transitioned by drum beat that becomes slowly fortissimo.

From the "fairy tale" the track approaches orchestrated madness just as Stevens says the lyrics, "I've tried my best/I've tried in vain/oh but the world is a mess." His cries to "the delighted people" of the world are not only heard through his haunting voice but the accompanying composed music. The song reaches its conclusive endnotes, which can only be described as a Michael Giacchino score during the highest-intensity moments of LOST. Though the song is almost 12 minutes, unprecedented for the majority of modern music, the time flies by so quickly that by the time the song is finished, the listener is ready to listen to it again from the beginning.

On the classic rock version, he creates a softer guitar- and ukulele-centric version of the original. I find it interesting that Stevens calls this the "classic rock" version, because listening to the song, I would not associate any famous classic rock acts with it. While not true classic rock, the instrumentals and occasional solos are exactly what I would imagine Stevens' interpretation of classic rock would be. A hint of disgruntled experimental guitar solos with a dash of madness and chaos all tied together with some sort of consistent order-a formula that mostly works.

The rest of the EP follows in the same vain as the title track. Songs such as "Enchanting Ghost" and "Heirloom" riff on Stevens' soft-folk music side with added interesting musical techniques such as using the electric guitar to mimic the notes of his voice.

The fourth, fifth and seventh songs play to Stevens' spiritual, religious side with songs such as "From the Mouth of Gabriel" which deals with the archangel Gabriel, who serves as a messenger from God. These songs further show Stevens' beautiful prose with poetic lyrics and enchanting rhyme schemes, timing and flow. The "oooh" and "ahhh" during "The Owl and the Tanger" seek to replicate the sounds of these gentle creatures watching the world perched high up on a tree. The effect creates enchanting noises that sound like they have been put through a gramophone and lost in the fog of Dickensesque cemetery.

The last and final song, "Djohariah," is a 17-minute epic that goes through three acts. The first feels like a mix between a spaghetti western and a Quentin Tarantino film-The Good, The Bad, and the Reservoir Dogs. The enchanted chorus of "oohs" at beginning with the twang of the electric guitar creates a disunity of sound that fits together like pieces in the world's most jagged puzzle. The first 5 minutes are a prolonged guitar solo filled with raw emotion and pain, only to cut out to reveal clear vocals chanting "Djohari Djohariah" with a marching band drum beat and trumpet line playing in the background.

This order is followed by more electro chaos-the sound of a child who just got a hold of his first synthesizer or multi effect amplifier and is having wholehearted fun. The issue is that this fun time translates more to art than pleasant sounds. For those uninitiated to the oddities of Stevens, this long interlude will seem like a mess of noise-an experiment gone awry. Finally, after the prolonged 12-minute, two-act solo, the song and album finish with a "typical" third act: Sufjan singing over soft musical backings. Among his depressing lyrics, Stevens' rhythmic prowess is once again proved.

In the last two minutes, in a formulaic way, the chorus of "Djohariah" joins in along with a subdued version of his chaos and a simple beat-keeping clap. The music slowly fades until there is only the guitar and his voice to be heard as it fades away concluding yet another incredibly interesting Sufjan Stevens album. I can only wait until Oct. 12 when he releases his full-length album, The Age of Adz. Until then, this EP will have to do-and it does just fine.