What began as a way for David Eugene Edwards to quell his
prolific songwriting flame while the increasingly seminal 16 Horsepower
dithered over “mostly political and spiritual” differences,
Denver-based Woven Hand has evolved into a full-time gig.
Even having given it the “side project” treatment since its
inception (which, in the beginning, was really just Edwards, plus a
turnstile of supplemental musicians on tour), Woven Hand received
crucial accolades from 16 Horsepower fans and critics alike. The band
has quietly released some of the most engaging hybrids of Native
American folk, gloomy old-time rusticity, and theatrical, grandiose
rock music since Nick Cave all but put a patent on the merger. Which is
not to say that Woven Hand is unoriginal; it isn’t. It’s just become
something of an industry standard to imply apathy toward the attempt to
accurately describe Edwards’ indescribable sound. The straight line
between his and Cave’s voices is simply the shortest distance to
travel.
Woven Hand has six independent releases under its belt, but it
wasn’t until this year’s Ten Stones that the band (also composed
of now full-fledged members Ordy Garrison on drums, Peter van Laerhoven
on guitar, and former 16 Horsepower bassist Pascal Humbert) began to
ladle from a larger cauldron, straying from the infamously redemptive
religious undertones of Edwards’ previous work, and placing a broader
emphasis on a permeating cyclone of sounds. Having been highly
influenced by his grandfather, a Nazarene preacher, Edwards used
memories of his sermons as lyrical wormholes, ushering decidedly
gospel-themed sheens into his songwriting. Ten Stones weaves
seamlessly through reverb-heavy, atmospheric crescendos and sweeping
tribal imagery, held down by Edwards’ slickly gruff vibrato and knack
for leaving just enough space in the movements for you to realize
you’re being crushed by something totally immersive.
Reports from the road have indicated that the live Woven Hand
experience is not unlike a religious one, despite the lack of any
overt saints-and-sinners aesthetic in recent years. It could
simply be the result of the evolved avenues through which Edwards
imparts his lyrical themes. Either way, when a band has the capacity to
simultaneously thrill you and creep you out, it’s most definitely worth
keeping an ear—and mind—open.