Vulnerability and poetic wonder unite as Alex Kerry brings back the guitar-led tones of retro emo rock, for Bad Skies.
Notably long-form expressive from the outset, we’re introduced to a fearlessly contemplative, quietly enchanting vocal lead, as Bad Skies follows a simple guitar pattern to rise up towards the more explosive drop later on. Along the way, the lyrics deliver a profound and powerful journey – the sort that urges you to listen more than once to truly capture every idea and reference.
Somewhat inspired by the likes of Brand New from back in the day, but distinctly softer in tone and perhaps a little more mainstream-ready in terms of the structure and the simplicity of the melody, Bad Skies stands tall on the strength of its lyrics as well as its sense of character; and its mighty rise up from quietness to passion and fullness.
Conceptually we lean back and forth between these observations on soldiers who have fallen, and the move individual reflections and questions posed as we dig into loneliness and long-nights. Intertwined within this are a multitude of metaphors and scenes, details and provocative thoughts.
The overall theme and story is of course open to interpretation – it’s a journey unique for both artist and audience; that’s the power of musical connection. As it happens, there’s great mystique in the lyrical weight of Bad Skies perhaps because the song is part of an upcoming concept album – a project relaying the life of a girl from birth until death. Our central character, as such, is neither the self nor the artist, so the threads run deeper still.
Coming in at just under the six-minute mark, Bad Skies is a song that connects with ease thanks to its lyrics and vocal personality, but it also proves all the more addictively passionate and immersive the longer you stay involved. The latter half is intense, extensive and indicative of an artistic direction rooted amidst conceptual delivery. Alex reinforces this change with a distinctly raw performance-shift for the final moments, and as the storm or sound of war rains down, the listener is left to ponder it all for twenty whole seconds of silence.