Release Date: Mar 11, 2008
Record label: Constellation
Genre(s): Rock, Experimental
Review Summary: Somewhere between Cat Power and Scott Walker without the focus of either.Hello, Voyager, is the debut from the band Evangelista, led by Carla Bouzilich who previously released the album Evangelista under her own name. Confused? So was I. At this point, actually listening to the album a good 10 or more times has done very little to ease my confusion.
Carla Bozulich has been making music since before I was born, and her genre-bridging career as a member of industrial rockers Ethyl Meatplow and the alt-country outfit Geraldine Fibbers has seen her collaborate with everyone from Thurston Moore to Willie Nelson. Evangelista, her umpteenth project, finds Bozulich weaving sultry, lounge-inspired indie rock on The Blue Room and Lucky Lucky Luck, together with spazzed-out distorted experiments like Truth Is Dark Like Outer Space and the 12-minute Hello, Voyager, where she screams, “This is my porn collection! This is me feeling superior to you!” over a cacophony of percussion and oozing, ghostly organs. Meh.
Formaldehyde, sandpaper melodies coated with cough syrup, pernicious prose and a lacerated, palpating heart removed via rusty melon baller: an inventory of the contents of Hello, Voyager, the not-quite debut of Carla Bozulich’s not-quite new band, Evangelista. It’s not quite a debut, because Bozulich has previously recorded with many of these same Montreal musicians, including members of A Silver Mt. Zion.
Carla Bozulich’s music revels in awkwardness. It’s always a little too exposed, a little too morbid, a little too inward-directed to embrace right away. Bozulich allows no distance between herself and her audience, hemorrhaging pain and dirt without filter, daring us to keep listening. Since the mid-'90s breakup of her country Gothic rock band the Geraldine Fibbers, Bozulich has channeled that emotional exhibitionism into an increasingly fractured set of side projects.