The music is uneven, though that didn't bother me much; it sounds like late-period Sufjan Stevens, the Sufjan Stevens of The Age of Adz rather than Michigan, who is enamored with dissonant noises from computers more than the trills of piccolos and glockenspiels. This works, sometimes; the songs of the two gas giants, "Jupiter" and "Saturn," build to an astounding power, helped by the buzzy undertone of pretty much every trombonist in Brooklyn. They are as strong as any song on The Age of Adz, I'd say, with one hell of a hooky chorus. "Earth" is beautiful, though oddly unearthly, with heavily autotuned vocals and Bryce Dessner's bowed guitar. "Mercury" too is thoughtful and simple, not violent as you'd expect that planet of extremes to be. "Uranus" is cool and distant, appropriate for a planet about which we, really, know almost nothing. "Neptune" is mournful, its lyrics referencing "strange waters" and ending with the phrase "It's best if I drown." But many of the other planets are simply noise experiments, never congealing into songs. And it was sometimes hard to tell which planet was actually being serenaded, as their order did not seem to have anything to do with their location within our solar system.