By this third record, Hannah Georgas had already established a name for herself in the Canadian indie music scene. On For Evelyn, Georgas is not just an “indie pop singer,” she is a “seasoned artist”; after all, she’d been at this game for seven years, since her debut EP. She is wiser, introspective, and content, without ceasing to be hungry.
You know an indie pop artist is comfortable in their own skin when they start off an album with just bare horns, like Georgas does on the opening track “Rideback,” as if she is kicking off a swing jazz record. Then she sings in a whispery voice—asking existential questions—with childlike mischief, and you know she is shooting for something more profound than just run-of-the-mill indie pop.
Musically, For Evelyn consists of slow to mid-tempo numbers, while lyrically, it carries the weight of the world on its shoulders: “I wish you didn’t take on everybody’s pain, ’cos I know you every night you’re saying prayers” (“Don’t Go”); “It’s too easy to walk away, it’s so easy when you have a high tolerance for pain, when I build these walls, I build them so high” (“Walls”); “I’m trying so hard to make a new start, but when I wake up I don’t get very far” (“Lost Cause”).
The music helps carry this weight with feather-like effortlessness, sounding gracefully poignant without seeming fraught, for it has an airy lushness, which is backed by immaculate production. Even the two slowest tracks “Angel All The Time” and “City,” as well as the gloomy ballad “Walls,” which are grey with despondency, have a cinematic lushness that’s more beautiful than sad.
Georgas treats the lighter moments of For Evelyn with the same gravity as the heavier ones: with enthusiasm that’s tinted with restraint. “Waste” with its distinctly Eighties new wave funk sound, where saxophones meet pulsating synths in a combination that is as garish and upbeat as Eighties workout videos, is undeniably catchy, even though it is as unflashy as an avant-garde number. “Evelyn” doesn’t give in to its bubbling dance-pop ebullience, but still sounds soaring and energetic in a way that doesn’t show off.
This understated enthusiasm gives a sense of calm elegance that is confident without feeling the need to project it. So, coming back to the opening track “Rideback,” when Georgas sings “I wake up in the middle of the night thinking oh my God who the hell am I?” she most certainly couldn’t be surer about herself.