Perfume Genius - Glory

In the fifteen years since Mike Hadreas emerged with his brutally sparse debut ‘Learning’, Perfume Genius has grown into a sprawling, semi-autobiographical art piece, introducing a series of eponymous characters, spawning a contemporary dance piece and evolving into the ominous orchestral beauty of ‘Glory’. This time fully absorbing longtime producer Blake Mills and both romantic and creative partner Alan Wyffels into the fold, the seventh studio album pairs Mike’s characteristic darkly poetic lyricism with a rousing instrumental crescendo, pushing and pulling from soft to loud and back again, in keeping with the record’s take on introversion and extroversion – a staple of his discomfort in the limelight.

Mike’s decision to collaborate more heavily births perhaps his most musically expansive record to date, in itself an exercise in allowing the external in. It’s testament to the limitations of the self, but one that doesn’t quite fully let go of Perfume Genius’ vulnerable storytelling. ‘Glory’ plays out like a reserved invitation; a unique opportunity and one to be treated with care. “What do I get from being established?”, he asks on the opening track, “I still run and hide when a man’s at the door.” From here, he looks to challenge himself, finding support in Alan and Blake, and ultimately from within. It spurs on the thunderous drama of the stunning ‘In A Row’, and the dreamy retrospective trauma of ‘Full On’, building to a suitably gentle conclusion; the perfectly ambiguous realisation that glory can also exist in the quiet, and in the shade.