Every year, when October gives way to November, a pall falls over me. My mood and disposition grow as dark and desolate as the winter is long. Though I can sense its approach from months away, no amount of warning or preparation can stop its impending arrival. “I’m sorry it must come to this,” it whispers in my ear as if an apology can make up for the coming months of melancholy and lethargy.
The feelings are nameless, faceless. They take on no physical form or shape and would be all-consuming if not for the respite music provides. The aching honesty of Daniel Romano’s “Empty Husk” finds the voids and fills in the hairline cracks. This is the type of music that forces back the dark.
As “Empty Husk” swells like an accumulating cyclone, it gathers energy and emotion as it winds across the psyche. Unleashing a thunderous roar of mighty guitars and coupling it with Romano’s peerless one-man harmonies vanquishes the darkness for a moment and reminds me that there’s beauty even in the gloomiest, coldest nights of the coming season.