Review Summary: Honour and Glory (and Hobbits)
What have we here,
precious? Another dusty hymnal for the shelf, spine cracked and bleeding with tales of yore, each dew soaked and gleaming in sunrise pink? It would seem so,
my love. After 3 years of silence,
Malfet has returned, the Californian dungeon-synth-er once again peddling suspension of belief via the understated flutter of the triumphant. Mellotron, harp, flute, and organ remain the mossy stones upon which their 4th ode to elsewhere is built, presented in more spindly-somber shapes than 2020’s epic,
Alban Arthan, but with no substantial dip in relief and respite. Quaint as ever, it too asks that you partake in its medieval illusion with earnestness, or kindly fuck off to another castle. There’s a whimsy here, you see; an unburdened soul, dorky and ornate and beaming; one that’ll wriggle away, abashed, should you examine it too closely, but which blooms brightly for those willing to embrace the silliness. Honour and glory awaits those who do.
