When you are a ridiculously talented musician with two successively remarkable albums under your belt (2003's Greetings from Michigan: The Great Lakes State and 2004's Seven Swans), chances are you will eventually disappoint and drop a resounding dud. Thankfully, Sufjan Stevens keeps fans and critics alike at bay with Illinoise, yet another folk-pop masterpiece.

In case you have missed the snowstorm of publicity that has somehow managed to find its way into every indie and many major publications in recent months concerning Stevens, here's the rundown: a couple of years back the talented banjo-touting minstrel of modern folk decided that after a couple of decent albums (the folk rock A Sun Came and the electronic song-cycle Enjoy Your Rabbit) he was going to release an album for each of the 50 states.

Stevens started with Michigan, his home state, and immediately jaws were a-flapping with praise for his studied and rich homage to his old stomping grounds. Always the prolific artist, Stevens managed to release an album of modern, intellectual hymns (Seven Swans) before undertaking his next state album.

Flash forward to the summer of 2005, when Stevens finally releases the second state album, Illinoise. Humorously, Stevens titled the album with a knowing wink towards the famously mispronounced Midwestern state's name, Come on Feel the Illinoise!

That brings us to the music, which is remarkable in its grandeur and bombast as well as its inviting warmth. Illinoise is Stevens' finest hour, no small task for a man who made the plight of the unemployed in Flint as wrenching as a ballad about being gay and Christian, and he plays it for all it's worth.

The album has 22 tracks and many have ridiculously long titles ("The Black Hawk War, or, How to Demolish an Entire Civilization and Still Feel Good About Yourself in the Morning, or, We Apologize for the Inconvenience but You're Going to Have to Leave Now, or, 'I have fought the Big Knives and will continue to fight them until they are off our lands!'"), but all have some sort of historical or cultural reference while incorporating Stevens' bent towards personal songwriting.

For example, "John Wayne Gacy, Jr." is indeed a song about the villainous clown-dressing, boy-killing serial killer, but it's also a quiet reflection on mortality and the personal troubles within all of us. Over gently plucked banjo and hushed piano strokes, Stevens sings (often letting his falsetto soar and inciting goosebumps aplenty): "And in my best behavior/ I am really just like him/ Look beneath the floorboards/ For the secrets I have hid."

Meanwhile, "Chicago" is a wonderful piece of rolling-thunder folk rock with its timpani drums, bouncy banjo and wailing violins. Never over-the-top, the song, like the album, strikes a perfect balance between the orchestral and the intimate. The song also capitalizes by exploring and seamlessly juggling the album's two major themes of triumph and redemption through the admittance of personal flaws and faults, as Stevens sings: "If I was crying/ In the van, with my friend/ It was for freedom/ From myself and from the land/ I made a lot of mistakes."

Simply put, Illinoise' highlights consist of all of the vocal tracks (13 in total), from the staccato electric guitar wails of "The Man of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts," the hauntingly spaced-out and otherworldly electronics of "The Seer's Tower," or the banjo and fiddle dance of "Decatur, or, Round of Applause for Your Stepmother!" In addition to being a wonderful musical piece, "Decatur" contains some of the most interesting rhyme patterns in the history of music as Stevens uses Decatur as a rhyming springboard for "alligator" and "Aviator" among other fascinating choices. To boot, the song also features some of Stevens' finest incorporations of state history in song, as he sings: "Stephen A. Douglas was a great debater/ but Abraham Lincoln was the Great Emancipator!"

It's important to note that Stevens has a master of fine arts, and certainly his music is as dense as a well-written poem or short story, but thankfully it's frequently more accessible than either tend to be. Balanced on generally softer and soothing folk instrumentation, Stevens' songs are melodic gems that can be so pleasing to the ears that their deeper meanings are often lost on the first few listens.

In addition, Stevens' voice is an equally pleasing gift for the ears that is soft, remarkable in range (marvel as he goes from a speak-sing canter to a soaring falsetto) and amazingly fragile (it often sounds capable of breaking or cracking, yet remarkably never does). If all this fluffy language has hidden the true point, allow it to be presented as another one of his exquisitely lavish song titles: "Sufjan Stevens is an undeniable wunderkind of a musician, vocalist and songwriter, or, he good, he really good."

The only real problem with Illinoise is it suffers from instrumental overkill. While things like the six-second "One last 'Whoo-hoo!' for the Pullman" may be funny on paper and even sounds like it was enjoyable to record, it does not warrant an inclusion on the album. The same could be said for a couple other instrumentals, which are pleasing enough to hear but are disappointing with Stevens' two biggest gifts (his songwriting and his voice) left out.

Illinoise will be on many critics' best-music-of-the-year lists (and has already etched its place as the year's highest rated album; check metacritic.com). This is a testament to Stevens, who is proving himself to be one of contemporary music's greatest treasures. Even if he never gets to Arizona, he can be forgiven for the tremendous effort he dedicates to his state records. So go on, feel the Illinoise.