The Weeknd cements his legacy as one of his generation’s truest innovators with the release of his sprawling and imperfect final album.
Is there an artist whose impact reverberates around contemporary sonic practise more indubitably than The Weeknd? The Canadian—born Abel Tesfaye—has shape-shifted the shade of his own musical and thematic approach seamlessly ever since his game-changing debut body of work, House of Balloons. Metamorphosing throughout the 2010s into one of the most important artists of the decade, his free-wheeling use of genre and mood have been tectonic plates that monumentally alter the mainstream landscape so vastly and distinctly.
Now, after a long and laborious wait, the 34 year-old shares his supposed final album. Hurry Up Tomorrow, it is coined—a phrase murky enough to be interpreted in a variety of ways across the opus. Tesfaye reflects on his career under the enigmatic shadow of his alter ego—whether touching on trauma with interlude “I Can’t Fucking Sing” or flipping between pleas of “save me” and “let me leave” on the multi-dimensional mid-album standout “Give Up On Me”.
It’d be easy to say that the record lingers—clocking in at nearly 90 minutes. But all the phases of the winding track-list feel necessary for Tesfaye to present his parting message. Long known to be influenced by film and with a further foray into the world of visuality on the cards following this sonic swansong, Hurry Up Tomorrow is bursting with cinema, often maximalist in its production and performance.
As for the features? There’s plenty to indulge in. The previously released single with Brazilian goddess Anitta, “São Paulo”, is an early album gem. Playboi Carti sounds hungrier than he has in years on “Timeless” and Travis Scott pops up twice—once accompanied also by cult legend Florence + The Machine. There’s jaw-dropping cross-genre inclusions everywhere you look; from Justice’s brilliance on opener “Wake Me Up” to Lana Del Ray’s stunning epilogue on drama-laden cut “The Abyss.”
A celebration of a chameleonic sonic nature, a twisting portrayal of an enthralling alter ego, and a blockbuster, barrels-drawn bonanza of bohemianism, Hurry Up Tomorrow is ambitious and emotional, visceral and immersive. And, most definitely, a fitting way for Tesfaye to bow out of his era as The Weeknd. His hold on popular culture will grow outwards moving forward—will it be as significant? The odds look good.
Listen to Hold On Tomorrow…
Words – Ben Tibbits
