DEE still follows his own path in the landscape of American music.

"Memory is an imprecise machine for which I have lost the instruction leaflet". With that saying in mind, I came across a department store sale, and decided to delve again into 16hp's Low Estate, on of the most disconcerting albums of haunted country folk. 9 years later, it seems to have paved the way for the Veils' Nux Vomica more than for the recent Woven Hand albums. That leads us back to the matter at hand, since singer and multi-instrumentalist DEE fronts both 16hp (now officially defunct) and Woven Hand.

The point is not to play "spot the difference", but to put Woven Hand's fourth release into perspective, and to see how far he has come. The development is slow, but obvious. The cheerful beats, concertina and banjo ditties have been left behind. And yet, at the time, DEE's voice already introduced a contrast that set 16hp apart from mere "redneck bar" music, unless we're talking about a real dingy, gloomy, dodgy bar. Or, more to the point, a chapel lost in the middle of the fields.

Woven Hand's universe, indeed, is getting more and more atmospheric, especially since DEE's collaboration with Flemish choreographer Wim Vandekeybus on Blush Music. Mosaic's first track is a wonderfully unsettling introduction, and similar passages come up to redefine the mood (Slota Prow, leading to Full Armour). Those are not essential in my opinion, as I actually favour more intimate moments (Truly Golden). The organ (and even a touch of didgeridoo) adds a touch of poisonous magic to most of the tracks. The voice is still haunted, although it plays less of a central part than it used to. And yet, whereas the album is definitely intense (this is obviously no commercial pop, granted), it is not too demanding either. It could be a clammy version of Dead Can Dance (Twig) -minus DCD's cold, disembodied feel.

At first, you may think that it is just another Woven Hand album. One too many, maybe. Then 2 things will happen. One is habit, which creates a connection between the music's austerity and the listener, and which means that you never get to fully enjoy those songs at the drop of a hat, but once you immerse yourself in the atmosphere, you'll find it hard to snap out of it. The second thing is the presence of musical rays of sunshine cutting through the darkness, like Whistling Girl, instrumental country folk Bible and Bird, or Dirty Blue, with strings and guitar arpeggios. Shall we soon sing Woven Hand in the shower? Not quite yet, but we're getting there. You can actually enjoy some of the songs out of the context of the album, and that's quite new, although a few of 16hp's songs had a similar effect.

It may be of some help to potential listeners to point out that Woven Hand is the missing link between country-folk and a certain kind of gothic music (not the acoustic kind, though, as this clearly does not sound like Current 93). The point here is not to offer a clinical description, but to provoke interest from people who may not have discovered Woven Hand's expanding discography yet.

Mosaic certainly doesn't introduce anything radically different from Woven Hand's other albums, but their quality doesn't flag, and the lighter moments also provide more variety.

Translation by Magali