Music Reviews: Artist Archives
Woven Hand
Mosaic
Whenever I described Woven Hand’s music in the past, I could usually get away with referencing the O Brother, Where Are Thou soundtrack, Flannery O’Connor, an Old Testament prophet, and maybe a hellfire and brimstone sermon or two. However, with Mosaic, such a description seems woefully inaccurate. Primarily because Mosaic finds David Eugene Edwards abandoning much of the dark American roots music that could always be heard at Woven Hand’s (and before that, Sixteen Horsepower’s) core.
Well, “abandoned” might be too strong of a word. It might be more accurate to say that Edwards has truly gone back to his roots, sidestepping rootsy Americana altogether and returning back to the Old Country.
Previous records conjured up images of haunted bayous, smoke-filled revival tents in hidden Appalachian valleys, and the desert spaces of the American South. Mosaic, however, takes the listener through black German forests, ivy-covered cathedrals lying in ruins, and weathered hovels in the stark grips of a Scandinavian winter.
There are moments throughout Mosaic where I could swear I’m listening to classic Dead Can Dance circa In The Realm Of The Dying Sun or such apocalyptic folk acts as Current 93, Death In June, and even The Revolutionary Army Of The Infant Jesus.
It can make for an absolutely gripping listen, as much as anything Edwards has done to date. “Breathing Bull” sets the eerie mood; the haunting whistles and drones filter through, sounding like twilight settling on abandoned forest roads, forlorn birds crying out overhead. But the drones and bagpipes that open up “Winter Shaker” are simply ominous, and become more so with each passing second, until Edwards’ quaking voice comes in with some of the most abstract yet worship-ful lyrics in his career.
Consider The Birds
For the past two months or so, my Bible study has been delving quite deeply into the Old Testament (1st Samuel to be specific), and it’s been an eye-opening and troubling experience. Blame it on my evangelical background, or on modern Christianity’s apparently exclusive focus on the New Testament, but the Old Testament doesn’t seem like it even belongs in the same book at times. For starters, the God of the Old Testament seems like a completely different deity, one quite unlike the kind, loving Father described by Christ or the grandfatherly Santa Claus-type figure most people seem to view Him as these days.
In the Old Testament, the same God thunders and rampages through the stories of the Old Testament, His holiness and righteousness constantly putting Man in his place, His hosts raining judgment down upon the wicked, His prophets decrying tyranny and injustice. The stories of the Old Testament paint a picture of a strange and frightening world, one baptized in fire and blood where God walks among men at their own risk and blessing—His presence bringing fear and trembling as much as rescue and redemption.
David Eugene Edwards, the soul behind Woven Hand, made his bed in this world a long time ago, and the result has been some of the most powerful and vibrant “gospel” music currently being made. As the primary force behind Sixteen Horsepower, Edwards sings of salvation and damnation, the evils of the flesh and the miracles of Christ’s blood, and does so with all of the fire and conviction of a prophet and/or madman. With Woven Hand, however, Edwards turns more contemplative and introspective, fleshing out his other band’s traditional instrumentation with drones, loops, and atmospherics, but with no less impact or power.
Consider The Birds, Edwards’ second proper full-length as Woven Hand, and his first for Daniel Smith’s (Danielson Famile, Tri-Danielson) Sounds Familyre label, finds Edwards fully embracing his creaturely status. In nearly every song, he casts himself completely on the favor of a raging and unknowable God, using language that would not have been unfamiliar at all to David and the other psalmists.
Indeed, the very first words from Edwards’ lips—“Holy king cause my skin to crawl/Away from every evil thing”—imply his utter reliance. And yet, his fallenness is never too far from the surface. “Bleary Eyed Duty” is the sort of ode to marriage and fidelity one might expect from Flannery O’Connor. Here, Edwards sings of his weakness (“And when you leave me where do I go?/Already I’ve forgotten that you wait for me”) before finally surrendering to God’s sovereignty (“It is a comfort for me to know/You will it that I need her”).
The songs constantly find Edwards’ singing praises to God, and yet his haunted, wavering voice implies naught but fear and trembling. This isn’t the neutered pap that passes for 99% of the worship out there. This is haunted, lurching, wheezing stuff, and I suspect that most people will shrink back from much of the imagery here, either because it’s too direct or because it’s simply too old-fashioned to jive with our modern sensibilities.
Just what are we supposed to do with lyrics such as “The world will bow/The knees will be broken for those who don’t know how”, “Power glory dominion be unto the king… we will weave our voice together and sing/Forever round the throne”, or “What is the end of my troubled mind/To embitter to sin/Provoke my soul/Come Christ within”? I suppose some might dismiss them as “quaint” or “old-timey”, but Edwards doesn’t let us off that easily.
For starters, there’s the man’s voice. Simply put, Edwards has one of the most arresting voices in music today. Regardless of what he sings, it’s impossible to have any impression other than that he means every word with every fiber of his being. And then there’s the music.
Though more ambient and experimental than 16 Horsepower at times (check out the eerie piano, chanting, and spectral drones that spook “In The Piano”), Woven Hand is no less powerful (just listen to the yelps and searing violin of “To Make A Ring”). If anything, because Woven Hand is essentially a solo project, Edwards’ vision comes through completely undiluted and has even more impact.
Edwards has never made any attempt to hide his faith, but he’s rarely been as open and direct as he is here. One can’t help but wonder if his association with Daniel Smith (another free-spirited musician working on the fringes of Christian music) wasn’t somehow liberating.
Throughout Consider The Birds, one gets the vision of a man constantly wrestling with his God and his flesh, and finally reconciling the two by yielding to the former out of faith and/or exhaustion. And yet, despite Edwards’ constant surrender to God’s sovereignty throughout the album, this isn’t meek or timid music by any stretch of the imagination. Edwards’ struggle and surrender invigorates his music like no other, and the result is yet another staggering album by one of America’s most convicted (and convicting) songwriters.
Blush Music
When North American fans of 16 Horsepower are finished drooling over front man David Eugene Edwards’ Woven Hand debut—finally brought to the light of day on these shores by the fine folks at Soundsfamilyre, and previously reviewed in these pages as an import release—they’re going to want to head over to the Glitterhouse website and pick up a copy of Blush Music, Woven Hand’s sophomore effort. Immediately.
Not a proper album as such, Blush Music is a collection of music composed for use by the Belgian dance company Ultima Vez. Now, I’m not that familiar with modern dance in general, or with this company at all, but if they’re using this stuff as their base point—and they’ve already contracted Edwards to work up material for their next show—then it must be stark, compelling stuff. Edwards channels his darker side here, the music is all creak and wheeze, crows squawking, voices echoing down empty hallways, and the half-felt traces of ghosts passing through.
Sure, the standard Edwards instrumentation is here—pounding drums, ominous guitars, accordion wheeze, heavily reverbed banjos—but Edwards and long time producer Bob Ferbrache have gone back and deconstructed what makes Edwards tick. They’ve isolated certain elements, folded them back in on themselves and reassembled them into one of the most difficult pieces of work of Edwards’ career, but also one of the most rewarding. Though only three cuts are truly “original” to this release—the rest are reworkings of material that previously appeared on the self-titled release—the reworked material is altered to such an extent that the emotional impact is entirely different. For proof, see the stunning fourteen-minute reworking of Bill Wither’s “Ain’t No Sunshine”.
Ultima Vez describes the Blush production as being about isolation and Edwards has tapped into that perfectly. There’s a sense of darkness and emotional fragility that spreads through his music here on a purely visceral level. Brilliant stuff and here’s hoping that Soundsfamilyre manages to bring this to local shores as well.
Written by Chris Brown.
Woven Hand
It had all the makings of the demise of a truly great band. Despite reaching their highest level of success ever—playing major festivals and selling out music halls throughout Europe—Denver’s 16 Horsepower had cut their last 2 tours short without giving much in the way of explanation. So when the band cited religious differences and announced they were going on hiatus for a year, it didn’t come as much of a surprise to anyone who followed the band.
The bassist had already cut a solo record (the fantastic though much overlooked Lilium), and rumors began to fly about who the bassist and drummer were planning to work with next. Then came word that David Eugene Edwards, the band’s frontman, was cutting a solo record using the material originally intended for the next full band release. And that seemed to be pretty much the end. After all, how many hiatus actually end with the band reforming? It seemed as though Edward’s solo record, coming under the Woven Hand moniker, would be the swan song, the last material intended for that great southern gothic, apocalypse-tinged act.
But as it turns out, this story has a happier ending. The band actually has reformed, and the Woven Hand album proves to be the first of three 16 Horsepower-related releases slated for this year. Woven Hand being the first, with the next 16 Horsepower record already completed and slated for a June release, and a collaborative effort between Edwards and Danielson’s Dan Smith due out before year’s end, completing the trifecta. It’s something of an embarrassment of riches considering how recently it appeared they’d be sliding from relative obscurity to complete non-existence.
As for Woven Hand, it’s already generating 16 Horsepower-lite comments, which while understandable, such comments completely trivialize the power this record carries on it’s own terms. It’s obvious from the first note that this is a 16 Horsepower-related releases. Edwards is one of the most distinctive vocalists going and his delivery is unchanged here. From the first line it’s obvious that he’s continuing to mine familiar lyrical territory as well. “I am nothing without his ghost within”, Edwards moans in “The Good Hand”, the first of countless references to Edwards’ faith.
While I can certainly understand why the supporting players in 16 Horsepower, none of whom share Edwards’ Christianity, might have some issues with his lyrical content, I’m quite happy to see it unchanged here as it provides the fuel for Edwards’ ghostly apocalyptic wailing. Strip the religion out of his lyrics and there’d be little power left. With the religion in, an Edwards record is the audio equivalent of reading Flannery O’Connor or William Faulkner.
Musically Edwards provides most of his own accompaniment here, drawing primarily on his skills on guitar, banjo and accordion. The arrangements here give the songs more room to breath than they’d be afforded on a full 16 Horsepower release, with the lighter instrumentation forcing Edwards to rely on atmosphere to build mood and effect rather than the full on assault that the band provides. Edwards also continues here with his recent trend of providing intriguing covers, this time giving a banjo and atmospheric hum treatment to “Ain’t No Sunshine”, pulling a classic song totally out of context and rendering it downright frightening. Indie rock kids will also be intrigued by the obvious lyrical nod to the Danielson Famile—“I took my shelter ‘neath a familyre tree.”
So the obvious question now is whether Edwards is better on his own or with the band, and there’s no obvious answer to that. Though Woven Hand and 16 Horsepower share an obvious lineage, the experiences are different enough to demand that they be taken on their own terms. 16 Horsepower has, of late, become more of an incendiary guitar based assault while Woven Hand indulges more of Edwards’ professed love for traditional instrumentation run through a more gothic mindset and all things drone. Really, no record collection is complete if you’re missing much of anything the man has set his mind to.
Edwards is reportedly still looking for a North American label to handle a domestic release for Woven Hand. For the time being it’s available only as a European import.
Written by Chris Brown.