（搬运+翻译）Review by Pitchfork onSufjan Stevens' Should Have Known Better
As the snow melts and the season turns, here comes Sufjan Stevens to remind us that everything dies. His new album, Carrie & Lowell, is centered around the death of his mother, Carrie, who was in and out of his life from the start. "There's such a discrepancy between my time and relationship with her, and my desire to know her and be with her," he recently told Pitchfork. "Should Have Known Better" takes us back to the beginning he remembers, where Carrie leaves him in a video store at the age of "three, maybe four." In a hushed voice, he sings like he’s clinging onto a blanket for warmth as he fixates on the black shroud that enveloped him in the wake of her absence, muting his ability to transparently express himself.
白雪消融，冬春交替之时， Sufjan Stevens 让我们看到的却是万物消寂。他的新专，Carrie & Lowell，与他死去的母亲Carrie有关，他始终绕不开在他生活进进出出的这个人。“我的经历，我与她的关系，是矛盾的。我好想了解她，和她待在一起，”他前段时间告诉Pitchfork。“Should Have Known Better”带我们回到Sufjan记忆的开始，那时母亲把他丢在一家影像店，他才“三岁，也可能是四岁”。他唱着，喃喃呓语，像是蜷缩在毯子里取暖。他盯着那块黑色裹尸布，母亲离开后，裹在他身上的那块。他娓娓道来，细细述说，关于他的故事。
But halfway through, an uplifting electric keyboard line kicks in; a subtle percussive note steadily taps out a reminder to keep going; his voice shakes off the ice and forms a chorus with itself, flowering into something hopeful. Sufjan flips the melody from the black shroud into a tender lyric about shoving aside his fear, discovering an oasis of perspective when he looks to his brother’s newborn daughter and sees his mother in her face. When he sings "nothing can be changed," he doesn’t sound resigned, but ready to look forward. It’s the dawn at the end of a long night, a prayer that past traumas might be healed by a beautiful present.
歌曲过半，电子键盘出现，情绪高涨起来；持续温柔的敲击，带着这首歌，缓缓向前。溶化寒冰的嗓音，和由它们组成的和声，绽放出了希望。哥哥的女儿出生了，Sufjan在她身上看到了母亲的影子，于是他轻奏出旋律，把黑色裹尸布变成温柔的歌词，拂去他的恐惧，寻找着属于他的绿洲。当他唱着“什么也不会改变”，他不再妥协，而是展望未来。这是长夜后的破晓，愿旧伤愈合，美好到临。
