Evangelista Hello, Voyager by: Liam Tracey Wed:13-Feb-08 Label: Constellation Year: 2008 WB rating 68 out of 100

When lyrics embrace obscurity they tend to have a chaotic nature and no one except the writer truly knows what is happening beyond the meaning of individual statements. It is more than easy to get confused amongst the rapid linking of ideas about Nazis, The Simpsons and porn; though this is the nature of the 12 minute, spoken – or rather yelled – closing moments of Hello, Voyager. The reasoning to the madness here is questionable, as the themes that spread from apocalyptic landscapes to individual violence to the idea of love are all but a list a friend had compiled of the things he thinks about on a plane. Such randomness begs the question of whether the ongoing rant is even necessary as the firm long player comes to a close. An obscure collection of ideas amounts to something intriguing at the least. Regardless, the work overall is rich and the plays on themes will engage easily.

Hello, Voyager is the musical extravaganza of Evangelista – primarily the work of Carla Bozulich (Geraldine Fibbers) and Tara Barnes. The duo have collaborated with a cast of various musicians here to create a musical environment that ranges from grunge to jazz to gothic to experimental as well as their own self-proclaimed happy-hardcore style. Whilst at first such an arrangement seems counterproductive there is a fullness that comes from listening to the album in its entirety. The full listening is important to the enjoyment of Hello, Voyager because no single track can be taken on its own – each melds into the next and adds both introduction and conclusion to its neighbour, to move songs would be to disembody the record. Such production of the record, as well as unique experimentation creates an atmosphere distant from other primarily gothic acts and ensures that its entirety is taken into account upon its final evaluation by the listener.

A biography of Bozulich and her work has described the singer/writer’s work as “at once brutally raw and weirdly visionary”. Whilst the matter of being visionary is the case of individual interpretation, the description of “weird” can be applied to more than simply Bozulich’s ideas. Whilst in her style of delivery on Hello, Voyager, Bozulich doesn’t stray far from her past efforts – such as on her last record titled Evangelista – there is a strange fascination that comes from hearing her voice soar into dulcet jazz styles after just spending the previous moments growling like a hungry stomach. ‘The Blue Room’ has a gentleness that seems impossible when compared to heavy and deceptively titled ‘Smooth Jazz’ – which is anything but smooth and is put to shame in the jazz department by following track ‘Lucky Lucky Luck’. The transitions are surprisingly subtle, which – considering the obscurity of genre range – helps Bozulich experiment with her past experiences with ease.

Whist as an overall piece of music Hello, Voyager stands tall due to its creative license, there are moments – mostly brought about by the obscure, epic angle taken – that are questionable and sometimes irritating. There is a nightmarish theme that stalks Hello, Voyager from its beginning and this alone can be disconcerting for the unprepared listener. The darkness that Bozulich tries to create in sections has an intenseness that could scare away the less open minded – as those unprepared for her gothic influence may find the dispiriting nature off-putting. Further to the thematic issues, gawky instrumentation creeps into the record on tracks such as ‘Lucky Lucky Luck’, as does a several-minute-long, baron instrumental, ‘The Frozen Dress’, both meaning to give the apocalyptic theme more flavour. The unappealing factors hurt the record’s ingenuity and spark a potential dissatisfaction. None the less, there is a full piece of gothic art here that is sure to amaze some despite disturbing others.