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Woven Hand
It was a beautiful evening. The fall took a sunbath behind the hills and factories while we drove to Bonn, and we were smiling from one cheek to the other, feelin' in good shape, abundantly laughing with every stupid joke we made. Indeed, there was some excitement in our car, like driving to a football game from our favourite team, the best there is, you know, a team who can't loose our support and admiration and we know that we're prejudiced from the bottom of our heart, but who cares, this is the simple but fair psychology of a fan... I truly felt proud for the German television attention, and the Glitterhouse DVD, cause now a hole nation can see how good and enigmatic they are, our guys, and everybody can hear the words which are so precious to me. The message that opens lives like the scalpel of a surgeon. Sorry folks, it's the same with me, every day i speak with the son of God.
 Arriving in the centre of Bonn, the darkness fell over the streets and the city seemed much bigger than i had expected. Suddenly i saw the consequences of neglecting to download a route description from the Harmonie website or another. But i had a reason, thinking of the stardom that descended here, i presumed that every German in a radius of 100 km knew where the sacred club was located, which is not. The best i could think of (it was already 19.30 p.m., the Helldoradoes must have arrived on stage...), the best i could try, was to catch the attention of the cars next to us at the traffic lights, which i did. People looked at me as if i was some crazy person. Glory! At the third traffic light two guys in a sports car didn't look astonished, but told us to follow, so that they could check their computer. After a turbulent drive through the Bonn centre, these two serving Knights showed us the entrance of Forngasse, where the castle Harmonie is located. Indeed this is a fine club, not too big, almost domestic and cosy, with a nice 'bierstube' where Germans with big moustaches play cards and everybody seems at ease.
 After the Doradoes left the stage, we entered a small concert hall in the back, with a small, low stage so that the artists stand next to the listeners. Ordy Garrison showed up next to the stage. I like to shake hands with my heroes, nothing more, 'cause i always say stupid things when i'm nervous. Yet i said 'hello Ordy', and he asked my name and i told him how important this evening was for Woven Hand, with the television and so (!) and he answered 'just a concert like another', and , 'nice talking to you'. He's a very civil man, Ordy. I closed my mouth and searched for a good spot in front of the podium. All the good spots near the podium were occupied; apparently this was a home game. David Eugene Edwards came on stage, followed by Peter Van Laerhoven (a fellow Flemish guy), they had nice shirts and were in full concentration. When the show started, suddenly a 'white bird' flew over and everybody was awake. The Hands fired each other, the guitars moaned and gasped like an old train that pulls itself into action for the ultimate ride, a gang that runs up to the battlefield.  Maybe 'Phillis Ann' didn't fit so good in the beginning- it's one of the most intimate and vulnerable of David's songs... then 'Sparrow Falls', the train again, and between the songs the electronic noises which keep us all in the story. After Deerskin Doll David said something about the television, i think he's not very fond of cameras, although his looks are very photogenic. Too kind, this gifted artist, sometimes shy like a little boy, i'm sure the man will never behave like a star before he reaches heaven. I love you, brother. 'Chest Of Drawers' was the hinge of the show. After this everything was perfect. Ordy Garrison used his drums and percussion instruments with the accuracy of a top cook in a five star restaurant, Peter Van Laerhoven played bass and electric guitar at the same time, steady, loyal and trustful, for the second time that night i saw humble serving knights, they even ruled the silences, didn't God himself say he made mankind alike to his image? David stood up, sat down and bent his back, craved the heaven for understanding, 'Wooden Brother', 'My Russia' and 'Dirty Blue' changed Woven Hand into a steaming ship that conquers the waves, up and down, the clattering of battle sounds and fine music alternate, like dancing wolves and sleepin' angels. Did you ever hear that they play waltzes? I do! Every time. Their guitars & rhythm turn around and around, like the sound of a ballet orchestra - the Woven Hand symphony that evocates the majesty of heaven. All together we heard it was good and went 'Down In Yon Forest' to praise: the highlight of the night. It seems they are ready. These guys are musically united, they sound as one. Who owns a forest where they can make a new record asap? by Peter C. from German e-zine Gaesteliste, October 2005. Well, they sure had found the right ones! Glitterhouse's best and fieriest offspring had gathered in the Bonn Harmonie to herald in the new Rockpalast Crossroads series and to really warm up the fans in the process. For, as Glitterhouse chairman Rembert Stiewe remarked in his introduction, especially Helldorado from Stavanger, in Norway, are just not "ethereal" like many of their fellow countrymen - but loud, rocky and down to earth. And what David Eugene Edwards and his two partisans lack in speed, they make up for effortlessly in dynamics and kinetic energy. snip The Helldorado bit of the review. /snip Well, David Eugene Edwards never really was into rocking out, not even in 16 Horsepower times. Even then you had the impression - also when they were properly blazing - that Edwards preferred to convince the listener instead of crushing him. That naturally is in his nature, to fire fervent preaches from the pulpit, which he continues to do briskly with Woven Hand. Well then, Woven Hand really isn't a band like any other. Edwards sits on his stool, plays guitar and mandolin-banjo (or whatever that is) and navigates his "hell-machines" (see below). Besides him, there is a drummer (Ordy Garisson) who rather seems to be a musical interior decorator, and no bass player (Peter Van Laerhoven), who instead abuses his guitar as a bass at times. So far, so good. What was a little strange then at the gig in the Harmonie was the fact that Edwards created threatening looped feedbacks, baleful soundscapes and backwards vocals with the above-mentioned "hell-machines" and in doing so he produced an atmosphere as in a black mess. Strange because Edwards deals with white and not black magic. (At least that is what Jean-Yves Tola once told). The sound now therefore was a little at odds with the usual "The Lord Giveth And The Lord Taketh Away"-messages. Otherwise Woven Hand revealed itself apart from some occasional outbursts to be more folky than rocky. Older mighty feats like "Cottonmouth" [sic] seamlessly fitted in. However in the long run this formula was a bit too obvious and predictable. As Edwards probably sees himself less as a songwriter than a weathergod (in terms of creating gloomy atmospheric storm fronts), some of the songs seemed to begin for 7-10 minutes, before being ended abruptly. Admittedly I have to concede, that this is something you truly don't get to hear everyday. And considering that the idea for the Woven Hand project arose from the concept of art for theatre and ballet, in the end it all makes sense. All in all this was an extremely charged, dense and tense, energetic evening with an astonishing stylistic and emotional span. And as it couldn't be easily pigeonholed, it even was a special highlight. Translated by Johannes  The gig was filmed for the Crossroads series of German live music television show Rockpalast. In November 2005 and January 2006 Rockpalast broadcasted parts of this concert on German TV stations WDR and 3sat. Here you can find some screen captures from one of those transmissions.
White Bird    
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