Yes I think that bandanna looks nice on you

The sublimely fey Sufjan Stevens played NYU last night. Am I too old to be having a crush on a pop musician?

Dressed in a mock Michigan Militia outfit, complete with a U.S flag bandanna around his neck, Stevens' set started with a quaver in his voice as he hunched over his keyboard, appearing for all the world like he was nervous, which seemed odd since the crowd was clearly adoring.

The band didn't quite click for me on the first two songs, which were orchestral compositions of the ambition of a Brian Wilson. The idea that the music was a recording studio creation that wouldn't thrive in live performance started to occur to me. But that sinking feeling quickly gave way as the de rigeur slacker energy of the Michigan Militia finally gathered into a kind of shambolic swing, and the music sounded as fine as it had on the albums.

By the time Stevens picked up a guitar for one of his quiter songs, it was clear the quaver was just part of his delivery. He sang a lot of my favorites, but the second song from "Seven Swans," "Yes I think that dress looks nice on you" stands out in my memory.

I could say something about Stevens' post-ironic irony, a certain dry sincerity which might pass as British but which, as we from Michigan know, is actually mid-Western. Like the moment he announced the beginning of the religious portion of the evening, and then actually sang one of his Jesus Christ songs. Atheist that I am, I couldn't help but think, this is so much more worth listening to then the warm-up singer-songwriter warble creepily about romantic obsessions. (Not that Stevens doesn't turn out a wonderful romantic ballad as well).

By the time the band returned from a costume break and name change (they came out in versions of the fetching feather-dusted white shirt Sufjan wore for a recent profile in the NY Times, which he, criminally, did not himself wear this time) they were in fine form, and in fact were hitting a stride with some new songs from his next project on the State of Illinois when a fire alarm was tripped and the gaggle of hipsters who had congregated to see him drug themselves unwillingly out Kimmel Center's doors.