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Woven Hand     
The staff of the Botanique café was anxious to close the place down for the night. Chairs had already been placed on tables. The lights had been turned up. But although slightly grumpy they did at least let our group of concertgoers finish our drinks and our conversation about tonight's Woven Hand show.
Not many words were spent on Daryll-Ann, not as many as were said during their performance anyway. The Dutch opening act played tonight as an unplugged drummerless and electric guitarless three-piece instead of their usual plugged half a dozen. The head Daryll-Ann'er was a balding bearded bloke in a spencer. They played sweet campfire songs (well, if you would bring along a piano to a campfire) with sugary vocal harmonies. Firmly rooted in a Hollywood Hills canyon in the early 1970's, Neil Young's Harvest period. You get the picture. Or perhaps you don't :-) Nobody at our table (or in the hall for that matter) was impressed.
 Were we by the main attraction? "We" were a mixture of first-timers, veterans and/or their friends. Well, frankly speaking, there was a slight overall sense of disappointment. It was not as intense as we had experienced before (with Woven Hand or 16 Horsepower) or as we had hoped it would be. The show was good, business as usual, but certainly not great, not extraordinary. The Botanique stage is almost as broad as the hall is deep, much too large for the venue. The lights too, though beautiful, seemed to be geared to a larger place. The sound was great, that is the sound we could hear, because the organ was almost inaudible. It all added to a feeling of alienation. Woven Hand did only on occasion manage to bridge the distance between band and audience and therefore they could only sporadically really convey the sentiments of the songs. It felt a bit as if you were watching Woven Hand on TV, not live. Notwithstanding that, the show did have its moments though. After a powerful rendition of Your Russia, Ordy Garrison got up from behind his drum-kit and wanted to get off the stage. To have a drink, or pee, or whatever it is bands do when they exit stage, and have to wait in the wings before they can return to do the encores that are already on the setlist. But he had reckoned without his host. The scheduled encores were played straightaway. When the band did leave the stage, and it finally was time for Ordy to get a drink (or for that delayed visit to the loo :-) David Eugene Edwards returned by himself. And much to the surprise, the pleasant surprise, of the people who were more or less familiar with the Woven Hand setlists) he regaled us with strong solo versions of Wayfaring Stranger and Straw Foot. Earlier during the show David heard a radio playing somewhere behind the stage. He remarked that "they were not selling any of his stuff". By now the café personnel were not only refusing to sell any of their stuff to us, but they made us leave too. So perforce we entered Brussels by night. Yes, many strangers on the streets, but no hangovers at breakfast. Thanks Raymond :-) The TYFC-table.
Phyllis Ann My Russia Wooden Brother Blue Pail Fever The Good Hand Ain't No Sunshine Story And Pictures When I come Back Glass Eye Aeolian Harp Arrowhead Last Fist Your Russia Golden Rope Down In Your Forest ========= Wayfaring Stranger Straw Foot 
Woven Hand concert between madness and despair.
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