Review Summary: Preaching to the converted
Of the cornucopia of Christian theological traditions, Calvinism is perhaps one of the hardest of sells. Among other points of differentiation, one of the more controversial tenets of Calvinist thought holds to a form of predestination wherein God himself preordains who is to be Saved and who is to be Damned before birth. Under this belief system, the individual is unable to exercise any ability to sway their ultimate fate either way. In contrast to the mealy-mouthed dogmatic ambiguity of many an open-door modern megachurch, guaranteeing redemption and deliverance from past transgressions for a nominal fee, Calvinism’s promise of eternal hellfire and damnation for those who had no choice but to sin is a comparative PR nightmare.
To say that the prolific Denver musician David Eugene Edwards is an enigma wrapped in a riddle then, is to understate a case so severely as to almost completely avoid mention of it. Beginning as part of dark cabaret act The Denver Gentlemen, through his breakthrough with 16 Horsepower, into latter-day forays as bandleader for the more experimental Wovenhand and occasional outings as guitarist for a reformed Crime and the City Solution, the unlikely Edwards has built an almost exclusively secular fanbase belting out tales of sulfur and brimstone with his fiery drawl; a sound now synonymous with the Gothic Country style he helped popularise.
Edwards’ 2023 outing, Hyacinth, may not gain many new fans not already intimate with Edwards’ particular blend of the old world and new, but instead reads as a sermon tailor-made for preaching to those already converted. His first album solely under his own name, Hyacinth follows Wovenhand’s continuing foray into heavy rock and post-punk on 2022’s Silver Sash, and seems as much a reaction to that sound as it does a partial continuation of Edwards’ 2018 collaboration with Crime and the City Solution bandmate and Einstürzende Neubauten founding member Alexander Hacke, Risha.
Musically, Hyacinth finds Edwards in overall mellower, though no less tense, musical territory than recent outings with Wovenhand. His trademark vocal style and 19th century gut-string banjola this time forsakes both the shuffling double bass and piano of 16 Horsepower, and the bite and crunch of overdriven guitar and blown-out drums of latter day Wovenhand for a marriage with icy, darkwave-inspired synths and minimalist percussion; production courtesy of Ben Chisholm of Chelsea Wolfe fame. Opener Seraph sees Edwards’ voice, ever-deepening with age, reverberate over sputtering drum machines; closer The Cuckoo brings to mind the lilting shuffle of 16 Horsepower signature track Strawfoot, reinterpreted through a post-industrial lens. Sonically, Celeste comes closest here to his most conventional, but Bright Boy and pre-release single Lionisis might be among the album’s biggest surprises, taking as much influence from neofolk stalwarts Current 93 as the palette of contemporary trap music.
All in all, though Hyacinth may set sail in parts for waters heretofore uncharted by Edwards, it does so while maintaining a mood and cadence easily identifiable as part of Edwards’ long canon. Consistency can be a curse for some artists, and to this Edwards may be no exception - but for those who have already found much to love in Edwards’ moody back catalogue, especially the aforementioned Risha, Hyacinth will deliver in spades.
Among all this, it crosses the mind that perhaps the most convincing argument for Calvinism’s concept of predestination is not a theological one after all. Perhaps the strongest argument yet for God’s favour with his chosen few is the fact that, over a thirty-year career, this unlikely, antique banjola-toting preacher’s grandson is yet to write a bad song.
