Review: Nero Kane ‘For The Love, The Death And The Poetry’
So here we are, well into the second half of 2025, and it would seem that the world is well and truly in a state of emergency. Now, more than ever, we take true solace in things like entertainment, and for me, that’s especially true of music. I’m always on the lookout for something new, something which can take me away, and not have me panicking about what’s going to happen next at any second of the day. For me, it’s also compacted by the fact that I have children, and seeing what the world is becoming for them is truly heartbreaking.
I’m never more put at ease than when I get to find a new band or have an artist I’ve covered previously come back to me to cover a new release they have on the horizon. The fact that I am trusted in my opinions and they are considered relevant really is an honour. When this happens, I throw myself into the task at hand to make sure I can offer a viewpoint which is both interesting and worthy.
There are several bands and artists I’ve written about on multiple occasions who are now very dear to me, and today I want to talk about one in particular: Nero Kane, who has a fantastic new album out entitled For The Love, The Death And The Poetry. I have, over recent years, gotten to know his work incredibly well, and his last album, Of Knowledge And Revelation, which I covered back in 2022, was quite the ‘revelation’ indeed.
Nero Kane, an Italian artist whose favoured sound is a darkly ambient, acoustic-driven take on Americana, brings a gothic-tinged air to his music and makes it something completely his own.
Imagine Michael Gira and Swans indulging ideas with the likes of Årabrot in the desert, armed with nothing more than a dusty, rusty‑stringed acoustic guitar, and you’ll have some sense of what the result may be. Utterly unique, strangely compelling, and peculiarly relaxing, these dark concepts pour from the speakers like thick treacly sonnets.
Often accompanied by the enigmatic Samantha Stella, what the two create will leave you a darkly sorrowful mess, but in the best way possible. Yes, its nature is dark, but its intent is a deeper understanding of your internal truths, it forces you to face your emotions both sonically and spiritually.
As for the album itself, it is a nine-track sermon, made of lighter moments, but more extensively it’s a darkly foreboding affair, so if you are willing to take the plunge, you’d better be prepared. I should point out that there is one track, Unto Thee Oh Lord, omitted for the vinyl release and only available on CD and digital versions, but this doesn’t detract from the dynamic.
It is the only instrumental piece on the opus, and I imagine that due to vinyl length restraints, it was the one track that could be dropped without ruining the album’s flow. For context, I really enjoyed it, so if you only get the vinyl, make sure you check it out, it has a more spiritual air to it and hits slightly differently, but in a wonderful way.
dark concepts pour from the speakers like thick treacly sonnets…
Across For The Love, The Death And The Poetry, it is a mixed bag of minimalised darkness. Predominantly, the album is made up of a moody acoustic guitar and drowsy vocal richness, and it’s those ambient crevasses where it truly shines.
Opening with As An Angel’s Voice, where the dark foreboding introduction welcomes us along for the ride. As Nero’s vocal drifts in to accompany the rhythmic intermittent strums of the strings, it sets the scene and the tone for the whole experience, and his vocal perfectly offsets the minimal guitar work.
My Pain Will Come Back To You, track two, fully realises the fact that this is going to be a morose affair by solidifying the vibe in its texture. As dark as its predecessor, it is slow and pensive. It’s this feeling of despair which monopolises the album, but there are other elements which break it up nicely.
Samantha’s monologing throughout Land Of Nothing over the densely rich organ soundtrack is wonderful. More of an art piece than merely reciting the words, Samantha is compelling to listen to.
Elsewhere, whenever Samantha pops up it changes the dynamic, but it helps keep the listener engaged. This is especially true on Until The Light Of Heaven Comes where the vocal, combined with a cello drone, is intoxicating. It reminds me of Kristin Hayter, and her Lingua Ignota work, but this is through the vocal approach more than anything.
Ultimately, this is Nero’s show, and the album is, throughout its entirety, a work of dark joy, and this is especially true on The World Heedless Of Our Pain, a monumental track and a true testament to Nero’s skills.
This album won’t be for everyone, and that’s OK, it’s more art than just music, and that’s also totally fine. Try it, you never know, you may well end up loving it.
Label: Subsound Records
Band Links: Official| Facebook | Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram
Scribed by: Lee Beamish
