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The body of this solo release from journeyman (journeylady?) singer Bozulich is a howl of discontent wrapped in a veil of drones and faintly folkish tendencies. Somewhere around the middle of the CD a beat comes through, more of a throb actually, and there’s momentary transcendence, a rise that gathers me up and cradles me in its arms, before I’m dropped back into the void and the howling returns. That transcendence couldn’t happen without the void. You need both to feel alive. That’s fucked up. (Terence Dick)

CD, Constellation, PO Box 42002, Montreal, QC, H2W 2T3,

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