On an old boat, maybe a raft--slowly floating under a canopy of overgrown trees lining the river bank--sultry but cool, with rays of sunlight sporadically breaking the tree shade--coming up on a dilapidated house--getting closer, the house takes on personality--sad but strong and defiant, melancholy with more than a hint of smirk. This is what I thought after one listen to Evangelista, and the album proves just as provocative with each successive listen. Working with members of Godspeed You Black Emperor! and Silver Mt. Zion, among others, this album is both experimental and melodic, both disjointed and cohesive in its approach. In former projects--Ethyl Meatplow, Geraldine Fibbers, Scarnella, and her version of Willie Nelson's Red-Headed Stranger--Carla Bozulich has always forged her own path, and Evangelista is a beautiful addition to that catalog. From the opening strains of the aptly labeled title song, to the soft churning of "Steal Away," to the chaotic "Baby, That's the Creeps," this album focuses on love and mercy and the importance of sound. Silence or scream, sound as a word as well as the force behind the music is vital. Imagery and music float in and out, showcasing flashes of story, tone poem, and impressionistic scenes in music and vocabulary, all anchored by that truly amazing voice. Evangelista makes me want to lie down, close my eyes, and simply listen. I can't think of a higher compliment for a piece of music. --Robert Arambel