Sun-kissed and sand-beaten; Ghost Woman’s debut 3-track EP Lost Echo’s reflects the gritty Arizona desert in which it was compiled.

Ghost Woman is multi-instrumentalist Evan Uschenko’s solo project following a string of inspiring tours with a variety of musicians including Michael Rault, Jacco Gardner and King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard. Stemming from a blues compilation record and indigenous Canadian legend, Ghost Woman’s name reflects personal taste and local history. As for the EP title Lost Echo’s, the Superstition Mountains in Arizona where the record was assembled, stand as an equally intriguing point of interest. The mountains are said to be the site of a nineteenth-century lost gold mine and also understood by some Apache communities as the gateway to hell due to the dust storms that whip up from its location. Understanding the meaning behind the curious artist and EP titles prepares the listener for what they’re about to hear.

Uschenko recorded the EP in an isolated farmhouse on imperfect instruments and a broken Tascam 388 tape machine to produce raw garage-rock, psych-charged sounds that drive forward with dramatic momentum. The first two tracks, ‘Demons’ and ‘Dead & Gone’, demonstrate this force whilst the instrumental ‘It Might Be Dress Day’ remains a mystery until release. The record is set for release on 13 August 2021 via Full Time Hobby and has already sold out on pre-order through the iconic Rough Trade. One such individual anticipating the arrival of Lost Echo’s includes a member of Paul Weller’s current band, no less. Ghost Woman has clearly carved out their territory on the British music landscape. The tantalising desert infused sounds help to bring some heat to the mostly grey and drizzly Great British Summer Time. 

Whilst the EP conjures visions of an endlessly dusty free-way and a ghostly mirage to the imagination, Uschenko originates from Alberta, Canada. It’s from here in his old man’s home where he was raised that the following interview took place (via Zoom, of course). Although Uschenko normally has no fixed abode, he’s happily riding out this strange pandemic period by helping his dad to clear out his garage and hold some yard sales. Important topics of vintage cars, mullets and Nick Cave’s catalogue were covered. More importantly still, Uschenko spoke openly and honestly about his music being a kind of innate but accidental method to overcome flawed romantic relationships and other complicated life events. With the promise of new music and a tour later this year, he explained that his artistic development happened alongside personal development; the unreleased tracks sonically demonstrate a sense of maturity and progress. 

First of all, could you tell us a little about your music and the inspiration behind it?

When I was younger my dad was into old country, The Who and all that sixties shit. So, music was always around when I was a kid. 

But the main inspiration for this project, I guess, is that I had been playing for a lot of years as a hired musician for other bands. I played bass for Michael Rault who went on the road with a few people. We toured with a guy from Holland called Jacco Gardner and opened for him all over Europe. That was a neat introduction to how people make really good music. 

After that we did a tour with King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard and that tour was the one that really excited me about what’s possible in live music. They had a really cool system: their shows were great, the albums were great and they just hustled hard at everything. I guess one last inspiration would be a Canadian band called Timber Timbre. They did shows right before I started this project - I watched a few and it kind of blew my mind.

Awesome, and what about your name? You’re Evan, but where did the inspiration for Ghost Woman come from?

Originally, it was a blues compilation record that I found. I’ve always loved the blues and there was this one record that I saw whilst rifling through a shop and it was called Ghost Woman Blues. I thought it was a neat name and that maybe it would be a neat name for a band.

But, there’s another cooler story. I have some indigenous friends here in Canada that meet with their elders every once in a while. My friend Tico sent me a picture when he was at one of these elders meetings of an old story that’s been handed down for years and it was called ‘The Legend of the Ghost Woman’. The story was based on the land that I was living on at the time - I thought that was neat. It wasn’t planned though.

It’s cool that you had two separate occasions in your life link up to point you towards naming your band Ghost Woman.

Yeah, maybe it’s magical. But maybe it’s not? And maybe it doesn’t mean anything at all and just sounds cool. But whatever you want to believe, that’s cool too.

When I first listened to the EP, I pictured myself cruising through the desert in a vintage convertible with dust and sand flying everywhere around me… so it’s interesting to know that the songs were compiled in Arizona. It’s as if the sound reflects the environment. 

I recorded those songs in a small town in the middle of nowhere in Canada in 2016. But when I was in Arizona, it felt like the right time to get an album together. I’ve always liked the idea of all those images that you were imagining… so I’m happy that it came through in the music. I actually spent some time in the desert before I recorded those songs. I guess the imagery is largely inspired by David Lynch-y type visual stuff.

Would you say that your surroundings influence your creativity?

I think so. When I write songs, lyrically or musically, they’re very much fuelled by life events or interactions I’ve had. For lyrical content, I’m influenced mainly by romantic relationships that end up a certain way or if I foresee things happening and all of those sorts of complications. But musically, it could be anything. Sometimes I’m just bored and I want to play the guitar and it happens.

There’s a raw and visceral sound in the E.P. What was your recording process like?

I have an old 8-track tape machine called the Tascam 388 which is considered kind of hip in certain circles - I don’t know why, because it’s a piece of shit. It’s not working properly but I kind of like that about it. Like all of my instruments are y’know… if I handed them to someone who plays guitar, they would probably not even want to hold it. So, I use this broken machine as a sort of instrument and find a way to make it sound neat. It was recorded in an old rotten farmhouse that someone had inherited and hired out to local musicians to practice or record in.

The farmhouse sounds kind of creepy. How was the experience?

So it was only me and sometimes I would stay up really late and feel like I should head back into town because it was so quiet and creepy. But in 2016, at that time in my life, I needed to isolate myself. It’s like the feeling of when someone catches you singing a song and you’re embarrassed. It’s like that when I make music. If there’s nobody around, I can feel more free. I can make whatever sound I want. 

Would you say that there’s a template to writing or is it a more spontaneous process?

At the core, I think it’s a spontaneous thing but I’ve been noticing that I do fall into a certain style or certain way of writing songs. I try not to do the same thing twice and usually I can’t remember how I did the last song. So, I guess I’m kind of half way but I’d say it’s more spontaneous than it is thought out or planned. 

I really love the momentum in the transition between ‘Demons’ and ‘Dead & Gone’. Tell us about ‘It Might Be Dress Day’?

The third song, ‘It Might Be Dress Day’, was recorded long after the first two. It’s an instrumental that will be on the B-side and I guess it’s something that I’m more proud of. It’s on there as a nod to the new songs that will be coming out afterwards. The first two EP songs are the heaviest jams that I’ve ever recorded. I like them but the majority of my stuff isn’t along those lines. I’m hoping that the third song bridges the gap. It reminds me of driving down the highway really fast and not knowing where you’re going.

Would you say that it’s your favourite because it bridges the old and the new?

It’s definitely my favourite on the EP but there are new ones that I’m stoked to have people listen to. The two harder songs, ‘Demons’ and ‘Dead & Gone’, I was angry and angsty and sad. This next song sounds like I’ve smartened up a little bit, or even matured, maybe. 

I know we’re all bored of talking about the pandemic… but do you think having to lock down has positively or negatively impacted your creativity?

It hasn’t really affected me. I’ve always just isolated myself anyway to make music. So, when it all happened, I felt like my little world didn’t change much. I kept myself busy with different things: writing and recording or just working on my old van that I can hopefully go live in for a while. I like to hang out with people but sometimes it’s nice to just take time for yourself. It was a really good excuse to not hang out with people. 

Ahead of our interview, I checked out Rough Trade and saw that Lost Echo’s is already sold out on pre-order which is super exciting. 

Yeah, I heard that too! You know The Jam? Well one of Paul Weller’s band members reached out to me and said he liked my music and had tried to order a copy off Rough Trade but it had already sold out. So that’s kinda neat. It’s cool that you UK-ers are listening to our stuff. 

What I really took from the first two tracks of the EP was the image of journeying somewhere to discover something new - for me this happens musically from the driving guitars and punchy drums. But it’s interesting that the song titles themselves have a sort of mystique and danger about them, seemingly hinting towards themes of regret and mental health. Was this juxtaposition intended when you wrote the songs?  

Very much maybe… I think that it’s interesting that you gathered all of that from just listening to it - that’s cool. It’s like when you go to a therapist and they explain something about you that’s probably true but you’ve just never heard it before. 

I guess those are the two main thoughts in my mind when I make music. I do have a hopeful and adventurous side. And then there’s the side that reflects on and regrets a few things. I guess the two first songs are the most confused that I’ve ever written. I think the newer songs are more reflective and a touch more positive. 

An interesting observation just upon listening. You have big ears.

Huge ears! Would you say that there’s an overall narrative to the EP?

I don’t really think about that when I make music, I just do it. But at the time I wrote the first two songs it was the end of a long-term, strange, unhealthy and unspoken about relationship and the confused feelings that came from that. I think I wrote them in the same way that somebody makes a horror movie. The writer isn’t necessarily interested in slaughtering anybody but the idea of laying it out that way is for shock and interest. Those two songs are harsh in a way but also not realistic.

Article by Meg Sweeney originally written for Bad Luck Magazine.