Husband describes this music as addressing his sense of loss since the death of his Yorkshire guitarist soulmate Allan Holdsworth. As such there is something of the spirit of Holdsworth’s own 'The Drums Were Yellow', his paean to Tony Williams upon his death. Husband, of course, has worked closely since with another Yorkshire guitar mutha, John McLaughlin, but the relationship with Holdsworth was unique, deep, and irreplaceable.

Hana in no respects tries to replicate Holdsworth’s sound: many have tried but the task is fruitless. But there are nods and tributes, whether on the chordings of the ‘The Middle Distance’ or the intro to ‘Wolf Moon’. But what matters more to Husband, it seems, is to find a ‘new way’, to almost smash his way into fresh fields. His drumming throughout is fierce and fearless, outgunning even the likes of a Simon Phillips: age is not mellowing this incarnation of Husband, who plays with a heavy, heavy stick throughout. The anger, the pain, is there for all to hear, noticeably on ‘Living Time’. But interlaced throughout are Husband’s piano and organ, soulful, earthy, quite distanced from Husband’s classical piano heritage. The keys bring a humanity to the bloody nosed fury of those drums. Hana’s guitar synths (again evoking Holdsworth) and Husband’s keys mix most ethereally on ‘Deep Stepping’. Add a choir of familiar bassists and you have, in between the melodrama, an album that is evidently deeply cathartic for Husband. How the project is sustained and what fresh pathways are to be followed remains to be seen. But perhaps, for now, the ghost is laid.