A very real discussion is taking place. One must face the truth: our guitars heroes will not live forever in the flesh. Though their message will carry on in medium, it will cease to grow and mature by decay. Who will take the mantle when they part our green Earth? I doubt Cody Yantis raises his hands for he is humble—a string of steadily improving and empowering work proves as much—but it seems he too has contemplated such sad fates. Starvation Winter bristles with solitary thoughts, sparse in its arrangements but powerful in its testaments. The oddly numbered tracks (“Seven” is track one, “Three” is track four and so on) proclaim Yantis’ isolated attempts at capturing a mood or thought, leaving it vaguely named, and giving it onto the collective community for further examination. In other words, doing what a new guitar hero should be doing. Playing tricks by playing no tricks at all but those we make up as the audience. For we too find ourselves alone; in our cars, our homes, our mind, to contemplate the worst and hope for the best. Here we have both, but only 50 copies’ worth of sanctity and uplifting are offered to the worthy.