I love Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom’s new Hyrule Field theme, with the warmth of its full chords and then that gorgeous single synth note that always feels like it’s emerging, like the first rays of morning but sustained. It’s not exactly a melody, but a held note that colours your gameplay with something lovely and almost lyrical, without leaving you stranded in lonely super-silence between piano notes.
I first heard it in a small clip before release and Had A Good Feeling. It’s the kind of small thing that’s enough to change the whole key of a game – maybe I could properly love this Zelda?
Turns out this game is chords and fullness all the way down (and then all the way back up again). It’s so lovingly, lavishly full fat and replete – yet also so snacky and moreish – that I’ve somehow played (and please don’t tell the exam I was revising for in June) more than 200 hours.
Many things – like actually , say, or even the final battle – feel like ages ago. The game is almost its own sequel, big enough to house its own seasons and epochs – the Do All The Stables phase, the Flower-Petal-Island phase, currently the Where The Hell Are The Wells phase – each a unique flavour. But within all this much-ness I’ve definitely felt two different, discrete kinds of love.