The Storm Fills Your Ears With Emotion – Marshall Potts

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The Storm by Marshall Potts doesn’t start with a boom – it rolls in like a swell of dreary clouds. The Canadian singer-songwriter rides in on a rain-soaked tornado and lands to deliver messages of healing and hopeful transformation. The album is an intimate look into a deep self-reflection. It’s not here reinventing the wheel, but it doesn’t need to. For what itlacks in musical complexity, it makes up for it with raw sincerity. It’s the voice resilient optimist that refuses to be swept away by surrounding turmoil. This album brings you down to earth, reminding us how to move through The Storm. 

The lead track “Free and Easy” sets the tone, a heartbeat for the 10-track LP. Melodic solos over choir-like harmonies are a postcard from the eye of the storm. Steadily trudging forward, Pott’s banjo pattern creeps in like the clouds, then the drums hit like thunder on the title track as a voice sings, “When the wind comes it brings change, and only truth alone remains.”  There’s a steady, almost meditative pacing, as if Potts is walking barefoot through shipwrecks. Picking up lost treasures and memories good and bad, he’s searching for what still matters.

Potts’ lyrics aren’t full of cryptic messages, he’s straightforward about reckoning with pain, sorrow, and discovering a purpose. On “I Like The Fall” he sings, “I’ve forgotten what we’re fighting for. All I know is that we’re so much more,” which serves as a main theme of this record. With this take on rock, Potts seems uninterested in experimenting and more interested in making sure you know you’re not the only one fighting your way through destruction. It’s not overly clever, but it is comforting and offers a creative blend of bluegrass and classic rock elements.

The music does well to carry the lyrics, providing the singer with a path – choppy but clear – to navigate along. It has similarities in rhythm and instrumentation to Americana, like mid-tempo acoustic strumming with a steady backbone drum beat, and the occasional show of an electric guitar. This is an album that recognizes its own identity, and one that thrives off complete listens and emotional relatability. “Heaven or Home” sounds like an earnest rambler singing to themselves as their truck drifts across a two lane highway. Softer and grounded, it’s an anchor for the album, but a fork in the road for our protagonist.

“Heaven or Home” drifts into soft rock territory with layered harmonies and familiar chord progressions, but it’s anchored by Potts’ earnest delivery. His vocals don’t soar so much as they stretch—weathered and human, like someone singing to themselves on a long drive.

“Let It All Go” is emotionally powerful, but sounds mature. It doesn’t blow the top off, it’s more like defusing a bomb. Swaying with release, it tells of someone who’s fought hard and learned when to let go. It doesn’t explode, but it simmers, and that restraint is part of what makes it effective. The chorus comes over you like a cleansing, warm rain, but the messages are painfully simple for someone who is holding on too tight. One thing Potts does consistently is that he keeps emotional continuity. Even when the songs blur together sonically, they’re steering the same way. This album wants your attention, so don’t put it on for casual background listening, though it may gently whisper something to your heart. It’s refreshing to hear an artist who wants to be relatable, and connect on a human level. 

Still, the album’s not without its flaws. There’s a noticeable lack of musical variation, with many tracks fitting into similar structures, tempos, and instrumentation. It feels like certain parts of songs can be mixed and matched with sections of other tracks and it wouldn’t change much for the project holistically. Occasionally, the songs are reflections of each other rather than born of their own inspiration. If you’re looking for innovation or standout musicianship, it isn’t here.

That doesn’t mean The Storm doesn’t have value – it just walks a different walk. Chasing trends or showing off technical prowess is not Potts’ style. Rather, he hands over a collection of songs that came from a deeply personal place. You may not remember a catchy hook, but perhaps the messages will resonate in the quiet moments, the long drives, the dark nights, the days when you need to hear that you’re not alone.

The album ends with “Thank You,” a relaxed, hopeful note. It’s not triumphant or conclusive, “I left it all to chance.” Like the rest of the album, it doesn’t pretend to have the answers. Instead, it gives its presence, and in the presence of The Storm, you find strength.

Reviewed by Cavit Ireland