We must be in a good mood, as Nero gets their highest score from us yet…
[Video][Myspace]
[6.00]
Alex Ostroff: Are dubstep anthems with female vocalists the British version of Evanescence? The verses have percussion that intriguingly sounds like a sea of galloping horses. Unfortunately, the chorus is belting + wobble, cranked up to 11 and tailor-made for stadiums. A bit of subtlety wouldn’t kill them.
[4]
Michaela Drapes: This track is already terribly massive, and yet there are times when the chorus dips down into the verses, that it almost slides too far below the surface, and poor Alana Watson’s got her work cut out for her to bring it back up to an 11. But all is forgiven as the plaintive, far-off outro more than makes up for the moments when everything buckles under the strain.
[7]
Mallory O’Donnell: Naming yourself after one of the most infamous wackjob rulers in history is a pretty standard approach for something as self-aggrandizing as this. Unfortunately, the infamous wackjob whose name they’ve chosen to adopt was also rather well-known for being a creator of extremely boring, trendy and self-aggrandizing art.
[3]
Jonathan Bogart: Dubstep as pummel; meaning as ritual; automation as personality.
[5]
Brad Shoup: Nero’s erected some impressively hulking dubstep singles, but for this, at least, they’ve largely traded in poundage for propulsion. The bass warps as usual, but the drum pattern has been significantly standardized. Can’t really puzzle out the lines joining verse and chorus… it seems clear her partner somehow put the burden on her, but still, why say “myself” unless you’re making pledges to no one else? Alana Watson doubles down with a combination of anger and desperation, and regardless of any syntactic woes, her self-flagellating, staccato repetition of “they are so wasted on myself” is trance-inducing.
[7]
Erick Bieritz: Dubstep warbles dutifully onthe backside of the chorus, but the integration seems like more of a technicalaccomplishment than creative inspiration. “Promises” is an admirably well-constructed pop song, but it does contribute to the perception that an entiregenre can be boiled down to that conveniently adaptable wobble.
[6]
Katherine St Asaph: “Promises” is initially everything you either love or hate about Nero: sound to the front, huge and present, no mitigating coating. The “Running Up That Hill” percussion is welcome anywhere, especially if you’re gonna strap landmines onto every other beat and push it hard to ensnare then outrun the bass dervish behind. The chorus doesn’t send “Promise” over the top but lets the floor drop out, accomplishing the same effect better. And then there are the words. Yes, they matter. The verses start as infatuated bullshit, then — right as the synths start to seethe — they turn iffier: “You keep telling me that you’ll be sweet, and you’ll never want to leave my side, as long as I don’t break these….” As long as? This feeling has prerequisites? Then the kicker: “they still feel all so wasted on myself,” confidence shattering as the beat cracks. There are days I want to time-travel to shake my teenage self and tell her relationships won’t fix your self-regard; promises guarantee nothing. Alana can’t stop repeating this, wailing and pleading ever more like she’s just realizing it. Shit, I’m writing these words about a Nero song. Either I’m in no condition to pontificate, or else I’m a sucker for big loud expression, or else “Promises” really is that good.
[10]