Willem Maker - New Moon Hand

Tempest-tossed slow rock and country blues, played in shimmers and drones, grunts and hollers, by a young but old-sounding southerner. Fans of “Beggars Banquet” and Charley Patton, take note. New York Times

There are moons and ruins in Maker's head and he's a man who sings as if he were trying to summon the greatness out of all of us - giving us these devastatingly sweet and hearty songs about wilting shadows and wilting love, heavy hearts and the kind of solitude that actually keeps a man company more times than he'd ever be wont to admit before a crowd of people. Daytrotter

OK, stop what you’re doing. Seriously, right now. Stop. Sit down. It’s not often I get unequivocal here, but I’m going to tell you that you owe it to yourself to listen to Willem Maker. New Moon Hand is the oasis of contemplation and harsh beauty that you need to banish the cares of the day, fifty-minutes of rootsy blues craftmanship that will take you away from it all and make you glad for the experience. I’m not kidding; this is an amazing album ... It’s rare to find a promo blurb that delivers its promise, but the press release here suggests that you can hear the wild open spaces of Maker’s youth in his music, and you can – the unhurried pace, the subtleties of light and shade, the way he delivers his lyrics in little rhythmic bursts, all combine to paint a picture of the American South that is a far cry from the tired ironies and stereotypes of the hipster-roots set ... Go buy this album; if you honestly don’t like it you can mail it to me with the receipt and I’ll buy it back off of you, just so I have the opportunity to gift it to someone with enough heart to appreciate it. The Dreaded Press


Willem Maker - New Moon Hand