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A hoarse voice worn by time and exasperated, almost as if it were constantly exhaling the last breath after a difficult battle, is the calling card of Gared O'Donnell, who then sees fit to strike more than willingly at the strings, not only vocal but also on a guitar that, crossing paths with Chuck French's, roars without retreating an inch, seeking to leave an indelible mark in a life constantly hammered by illusions where finding the right balance is a mission practically aborted at the outset, if not suicidal. Discover the review
A hoarse voice worn by time and exasperated, almost as if it were constantly exhaling the last breath after a difficult battle, is the calling card of Gared O'Donnell, who then sees fit to strike more than willingly at the strings, not only vocal but also on a guitar that, crossing paths with Chuck French's, roars without retreating an inch, seeking to leave an indelible mark in a life constantly hammered by illusions where finding the right balance is a mission practically aborted at the outset, if not suicidal.
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