Honeybone by Sablet

Honeybone, honestly, it’s mostly a document of what happens when you try real hard to be invisible, but the world, or at least your cul-de-sac, just won’t let you. We called it Honeybone because sometimes the sweetest things hide the sharpest edges. It’s Hepzibah Moon’s story, this widowed witch who just wants to water her ficus and keep her spells under a stack of old coupons in Farrow’s End. But then the chairperson of The Watch, the neighborhood busybodies, up and quits. Suddenly, Hepzibah’s not so invisible anymore. The whole thing spirals out, pulling her into all these little power plays, the kind you only see in church bake-offs or over who gets to use the good pruning shears.

Musically, we tried to make it sound like those moments when the mundane suddenly feels a bit… off. Like when you realize the hum of the fridge is actually a low incantation. So, yeah, you’ll hear plenty of kitchenware percussion – spatulas, jar lids, broomsticks – rubbing up against the warmth of an upright piano and strings that sometimes feel like they’re muttering secrets in the autumn air. There's a lot of tape hiss in there, whispers of overheard things, the general crackle of just living in a quiet house. We wanted to capture that cozy unease, where the subtle magic Hepzibah uses isn’t some grand gesture, but just another part of her daily chores. It’s all about soft power, really. How you can move mountains with a well-placed Tupperware swap or a perfectly timed cough syrup delivery.

You follow Hepzibah from just stirring intentions into her tea with the Fennel Spoon, trying not to be seen by the morning joggers, all the way to her accepting a spot on the HOA board, basically becoming what she always tried to avoid. The sound grows with her, from those quiet, closet-muffled string bits to something a bit more lush, but still sepia-toned, like an old photograph found in a dusty attic. It's about how secrets weigh you down, and how sometimes, the quietest people hold the most surprising strength. There’s a certain ache to it, for sure – the ache of trying to be normal when you’re anything but, and the relief when you finally realize that maybe 'normal' is just another trick you’ve perfected. We hope it resonates, because we all have those little hidden things, those spells we hold close, that make us who we are. It’s not about flashy magic; it’s about the kind you step over every day, the stuff that tips the greatest scales without anyone even noticing.

Kitchen-table spells and small-town disguises—we're Sablet, where frayed cardigans meet confessional folk. Our songs whisper secrets between tea leaves and dusty pianos, chronicling ordinary magic through wry melodies and wooden spoon percussion.