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- Revelation Songs
- Sounds of Niger in West Phila.
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Revelation Songs
Let me say, first off, that I’m not particularly a fan of Christian song. I try to evaluate music based on its artistic merit – rather than the faith from which it stems–and so, I appreciate Christian song only when it’s actually good music. (“Jesus is just alright with me” = good song. “With arms wide open” = not a good song.)
That being said, I didn’t know what to expect heading out to Johnny Brenda’s on a Thursday to catch Woven Hand, Silver Summit and Deadfolk, three bands united by their moody tunes and Christian influences.
What I found was a real sense of community, passion and positive energy, which flowed from the audience to the stage and back again.
Deadfolk is the first band of the night. The brainchild of Lauren Agnew and Patrick Spatz, Deadfolk features mellow, shimmering, campfire melodies, which transition slowly from gentle hymns to rousing, guitar-driven spirituals.
The band – all 7 members! – are seated in a semi circle across the stage, and frequently trade instruments: violin, cello, acoustic guitar and bass, xylophone, accordion, bongo, cymbals, and tambourine. There’s a calmness to their performance, and a serenity, that feels very early ‘60s, Haight Asbury. The crowd digs it.
Silver Summit is up next. A floaty, other-worldly, Brooklyn-based dream-folk collective, Summit’s songs start gingerly with pizzicato or soft violin, then gradually add layers of sonic noise.
Lead singer/composer Sondra Ow Sun-Odeon’s voice sounds effortless and haunted, especially on tracks like “Water’s Edge.” Summit co-founder and guitarist David Shawn Bosler is equally enchanting, and the rest of the band Espers’ Otto Hauser, Laura Ortman, Margie Wienk, Alexandra Drewchin and Gillian Chadwick) certainly holds their own. For their final number, Sun-Odeon begins clapping, working the audience into a frenzy. Bosler joins in on guitar, and Ortman on violin, and the whole thing escalates into a passionate symphony, with Sun-Odeon crying out “We are all a dying tribe!” I must admit I feel strangely moved.
Woven Hand are the final band of the night, and musically the most experienced (vocalist/lead guitarist David Eugene Edwards and bassist Pascal Humbert are Christian alt-gods 16 Horsepower alums). As soon as they take the stage, the crowd pushes forward, determined not to miss a moment. I see folks with their eyes closed, and folks pumping their fists – Woven Hand practically has a cult following!
Their songs are all noisy and dramatic, full of frantic drumming (from Ordy Garrison), deep, throaty singing, crescendos, decrescendos and excess feedback. There’s an undeniable doomsday feeling present, as Edwards barrels from song to song, barely pausing, and shaking his head furiously as he spits out words: “there’s a sorrow that is life.”
Woven Hands are often described as swamp rock – listening, I can tell why. I feel like I’m alone in a bayou at the end of the world – and that the sins of humanity are coming to take me down. Occasionally, a hint of melody will peak through – only to be covered in more feedback and noise.
The crowd goes wild when Woven Hands’ set ends, and the venue is buzzing with an energy uncommon for a Thursday night. I leave Johnny Brenda’s feeling oddly satiated – the world of Christian rock is not for me, but I enjoyed my temporary foray into its passionate underbelly.
That being said, I didn’t know what to expect heading out to Johnny Brenda’s on a Thursday to catch Woven Hand, Silver Summit and Deadfolk, three bands united by their moody tunes and Christian influences.
What I found was a real sense of community, passion and positive energy, which flowed from the audience to the stage and back again.
Deadfolk is the first band of the night. The brainchild of Lauren Agnew and Patrick Spatz, Deadfolk features mellow, shimmering, campfire melodies, which transition slowly from gentle hymns to rousing, guitar-driven spirituals.
The band – all 7 members! – are seated in a semi circle across the stage, and frequently trade instruments: violin, cello, acoustic guitar and bass, xylophone, accordion, bongo, cymbals, and tambourine. There’s a calmness to their performance, and a serenity, that feels very early ‘60s, Haight Asbury. The crowd digs it.
Silver Summit is up next. A floaty, other-worldly, Brooklyn-based dream-folk collective, Summit’s songs start gingerly with pizzicato or soft violin, then gradually add layers of sonic noise.
Lead singer/composer Sondra Ow Sun-Odeon’s voice sounds effortless and haunted, especially on tracks like “Water’s Edge.” Summit co-founder and guitarist David Shawn Bosler is equally enchanting, and the rest of the band Espers’ Otto Hauser, Laura Ortman, Margie Wienk, Alexandra Drewchin and Gillian Chadwick) certainly holds their own. For their final number, Sun-Odeon begins clapping, working the audience into a frenzy. Bosler joins in on guitar, and Ortman on violin, and the whole thing escalates into a passionate symphony, with Sun-Odeon crying out “We are all a dying tribe!” I must admit I feel strangely moved.
Woven Hand are the final band of the night, and musically the most experienced (vocalist/lead guitarist David Eugene Edwards and bassist Pascal Humbert are Christian alt-gods 16 Horsepower alums). As soon as they take the stage, the crowd pushes forward, determined not to miss a moment. I see folks with their eyes closed, and folks pumping their fists – Woven Hand practically has a cult following!
Their songs are all noisy and dramatic, full of frantic drumming (from Ordy Garrison), deep, throaty singing, crescendos, decrescendos and excess feedback. There’s an undeniable doomsday feeling present, as Edwards barrels from song to song, barely pausing, and shaking his head furiously as he spits out words: “there’s a sorrow that is life.”
Woven Hands are often described as swamp rock – listening, I can tell why. I feel like I’m alone in a bayou at the end of the world – and that the sins of humanity are coming to take me down. Occasionally, a hint of melody will peak through – only to be covered in more feedback and noise.
The crowd goes wild when Woven Hands’ set ends, and the venue is buzzing with an energy uncommon for a Thursday night. I leave Johnny Brenda’s feeling oddly satiated – the world of Christian rock is not for me, but I enjoyed my temporary foray into its passionate underbelly.
