With many acts, but only a few interesting ones, you always have to make sure you are at one of the ten venues, on or near Leidseplein, two hours before the performance of your choice. That is if you want to be certain of a seat when you visit the Crossing Border Festival in Amsterdam. Like last year and the day before, people had been queuing for over two hours trying to get in. Well prepared with this data, it meant we had to watch another gig at the Stadsschouwburg prior to the Woven Hand one. Yes, I can tell you that it was quite interesting to be part of an audience of 40-somethings, especially 'Ello-Luv-how-nice-it-is-to-see-you-'ere” housewives who talked eagerly of their holiday in Greece. You'd think it would be only the weather that attracts them to this country. Wrong! Especially for tonight in Amsterdam, we present you the(ir) Greek God: Yorgos Dalaras.

The advantage in this was that, after they had buried Zeus under the contents of a flower-stall, the first few rows were thinned out enough for 16hpettes and 16hpteers to get a good seat. Fast-forward a bit, look behind you and see how packed the theatre with its 600+ seats is. The Stadsschouwburg is absolutely a gorgeous grand place, lush and lavish, very fancy with crystal chandeliers, statues hanging from the (three) balconies, red carpet everywhere (even on the seats ;-), and a lot of late 19th/early 20th century artwork in the labyrinth of passages and foyers. “Hey, this place is a little too nice for us, but we'll give it our best shot"; David Eugene Edwards modestly remarked after his entrance.

Not before he was announced by Marc Stakenburg (of KRO-radio fame) who went straight to the point by saying that when a band needs a break they usually end up doing solo-projects. While listening, I was looking (those radio guys always disappoint you with their looks anyway. Maybe because of their sexy voices? … ahum) at three seats, three guitars, two micro-stands and one organ. “Woven Hand!!”

A not so nervous, even cheerful David and a very serious looking guy came on stage. Silence in the audience, birds singing from a speaker behind us. David picked up the mandolin and Daniel McMahon a guitar. The start of 'Straw Foot'. A familiar beginning to get used to the acoustic ambience, during which I couldn't help noticing his accessories: shiny ring, gleaming bracelet and an interesting new necklace. He traded his horseshoe for a silver cross. Details maybe, but who knows, maybe they are significant signs. For what? I don't know, maybe he became allergic to metal? :-)

The next song introduced us to the drum-machine (think of Jean-Yves Tola in a box on speed multiplied by seven), that sounded quite annoying at the beginning of the song. Probably caused by the fact that the sound came from the speakers behind us. (Something that was thankfully corrected in Brussels and therefore sounded much better.)
It was the first Woven Hand song and a very impressive one called My Russia:

Actually for almost every song they used beats and/or other artificial sounds (one of which he called 'summertime') out of a box. Unfortunately at times we could witness a slight incompetence in their way of operating them. When a song just brought you in the mood to drift to a special place, the beginning of the next song already shook you up by starting abruptly with a loud provoking drum. A beat that was turned down just as abruptly right before David started singing. Well, at least it kept us alert. ;-)

Another beautiful 'Woven Hand'-song:
“Still not a day goes by.
Something always.
Something always by and by”

Feeling a spur of angst for a minute, wondering about the whereabouts of the banjo and bandoneon, instruments that used to give his music such a distinguished sound. Ironically how soon his next lines disturbed that thought:

Which let me to think that if the show was done exactly the same (like Crossing Border 1999) with the same instruments it would have been a bit boring and predictable. But if not, something else creeps up, an anxiety that the old times have past and are never going to return again. Hum ... probably because there is this fear, and I know I am not alone here ;-), of never seeing 16hp play again.

Of course, you know it is bound to come, THE comparison: on occasions, when they played 16hp songs, I have to confess I did miss the eruptions and the tension that the other bandmembers/instruments bring forward. I sometimes even had to restrain myself from moving on my seat each time when I expected it to explode. Even though it didn't. For your information, I don't suffer from sudden spastic attacks normally. I seem to be in full control of my muscular movements. ;-) Also fair to say he did perform those 16hp songs differently, in a way that fitted in better with the new(er) songs. And he changed the lyrics slightly or sang the lines in a different order. Yet now he got us all worried what has happened to Phyllis Ruth, since he brought this new character to the scene: Phyllis Ann. ... and who is she? ;-)

Back to the rest of the audience. During the songs it was absolutely dead quite (even though this was located in Holland ;->) with a big burst of noise and joy after every single song. Without a doubt the good people of the old world seemed pleased and impressed by the new songs.
“We love you David”; a woman shouted from the right side of the venue.
“Hey, I love you too”; he replied.
“We love you Daniel”; a guy at the left side ventured cynically.
“Yea, that's my boy Daniel McMahon over there.”
He reminds me a bit of the singer of Botanica, except that he looks quite sad with his eyes half open as if he takes life way too serious. At least from my point of view, he didn't seem to enjoy himself. But that of course could have had all sorts of reasons, which I have no business interfering with. ;-) Over to compliment him on his voice: his more-than-backing vocals on a few of the new songs were beautiful and even chilling. Consistent and very secure in his playing, especially behind his Church organ, which sounded very deep, dark and threatening. An excellent companion for David Eugene Edwards.

By Ing!

Click here to read (translated) reviews by the Dutch press.