Brice Ezell: There’s an oddity to the standard critical narrative of the Weeknd’s music following his major commercial breakthrough, 2015’s Beauty Behind the Madness. For years, critics invoked comparisons to Michael Jackson when discussing Abel Tesfaye’s voice. That comparison played a factor in the high praise bestowed upon the Weeknd’s Trilogy mixtapes, particularly the lauded House of Balloons (2011). Yet since Tesfaye hit it big last year thanks to mega-hit singles like “Can’t Feel My Face” and “The Hills”, there’s a growing perception that the Weeknd has “sold out” by candy-coating his nihilist R&B for a commercial audience. There are credible arguments to be made about whether or not Kiss Land (2013) or Beauty Behind the Madness are better or worse than the Trilogy mixtapes, but those arguments shouldn’t have anything to do with the Weeknd being “too pop”. After all, if you’re gonna compare Tesfaye to the King of Pop, you shouldn’t be surprised when he starts flirting with a pop audience.
“False Alarm”, like “Starboy” before it, is a continuation of Tesfaye’s union of cleanly produced R&B with lyrics straight out of a Bret Easton Ellis nightmare. The most attention-grabbing element of “False Alarm” is its bank robbery music video, which employs a first-person camera view a la Hardcore Henry (2015). I’m sure there’s a thinkpiece in the works about the innovation of the music video, but having played more than my fair share of Splinter Cell games it’s a bit old hat for me. (The problematic and unbelievable Stockholm Syndrome moment in the video is a whole other issue.) As for the music, Tesfaye continues to play to his strengths. There’s plenty of existential dread, a lofty subject that, in Tesfaye’s hands, remains intriguing. The track features a bridge where all of the music drops out and it’s just Tesfaye’s voice, an effective maneuver that also serves “The Hills” and “Losers” well. Yet “False Alarm” is far less effective than “Starboy”, which itself is not as strong as any of the singles off of Beauty Behind the Madness. The chorus is anchored on the repetition of the song’s title, a hook that never really gets off the ground despite the frenetic rhythm of the chorus. “False Alarm” feels more like a middling B-side than a proper album cut, but time will tell how it fits into the upcoming Starboy LP. The Michael Jackson comparisons are less salient on “False Alarm”, but the Weeknd is still firmly in his pop phase. This song notwithstanding, that’s not a bad thing. [5/10]
Adriane Pontecorvo: The first-person blood, gore, and gun violence of the Weeknd’s latest video leaves behind a sour taste that completely overshadows the song itself. The song itself, by the way, is an adrenaline-fueled dance jam with clear Michael Jackson influences, but you’d never know that from hearing it in the single’s video, which cuts it with sirens, explosions, and imagery that tell an uninspired story ripped from the video games you won’t let your kids play. It’s unfortunate; the song almost sounds like it might be good, but you’d never know from this video. [3/10]
Steve Horowitz: The song and the video provide a rush of adrenaline. The singer purposely, wondrously sounds more like a police siren than a human being, or some kind of weird combination of both, that turns the visual action into something more urgent than a heist flick. Sure, the video uses the threat of violence, and real violence to make its points, but the music keeps things moving. The percussive tempos and insistent rhythmic noise create a dynamic force that never stops never stops never stops until the last note is heard. [9/10]
Scott Zuppardo: The dude with the sweetest sounding voice conjuring up riotous imagery both mentally and literally. The past two videos I’ve seen are mini-movies seemingly sparing no expense. Like Michael Bey-esque, over-the-top movie production. A genius idea to push along a moderate song, excellent marketing in a freshly unknown abyss. [5/10]
Andrew Paschal: The inferior cousin to the excellent “Starboy”, “False Alarm” still isn’t terrible but it leaves something to be desired. A “false alarm” is a bit too much of a cliche to serve as a unifying theme, and I’m not sure I buy the Weeknd’s panicked delivery. Between the “hey! hey! hey!’s” in the chorus and the ultra-peppy beat, it’s basically a pop-punk song dressed up in Weeknd clothing, but not in an inventive, fusion kind of way — more in the sense that he’s repackaging an old, tired formula and trying to pass it off as something new. I do like the screaming, but even that gets boring after the first time. [5/10]
SCORE: 5.40