Abel Tesfaye, better known as The Weeknd, has been steadily shifting his energy to the screen, first with HBO’s maligned “The Idol” and now with a companion film to his new album, “Hurry Up Tomorrow.” The album itself is cinematic, though. Its songs function less as typical pop pieces and more like musical numbers where concerns about genre and structure submit to the demands of the narrative and emotion of the overall show. The Weeknd puts together an impressive show indeed, complete with co-stars, oscillating moods, brilliant production and raw heartache that those only familiar with his mega-hits might not have known he could manage.
The most impressive aspect of the album is its sheer musical range, from The Weeknd’s trademark retro–dance pop on “Open Hearts” to modern trap on “Cry For Me” and “Timeless,” from nostalgic, sample-based hip-hop on the gorgeous, affecting “Niagara Falls” to acoustic guitar balladry on the first half of “Reflections Laughing.”
Anchoring it all are The Weeknd's generational voice and the transportive, otherworldly synth landscapes from his chief collaborator here, mega-producer Mike Dean. Tying the album together is the despair The Weeknd’s narrator feels in his pop-star lifestyle, as well as a bold confrontation with death that is pronounced in standout moments like the shockingly bleak second half of “Given Up On Me” and the heartbreaking confession to the narrator’s mother in “The Abyss,” which is hard not to read as autobiographical.
As for the vocal collaborators, even with heavyweights like Lana Del Rey, Playboi Carti, Travis Scott and Florence + The Machine in tow, Future is undoubtably the best supporting performer here. On the standout “Enjoy The Show,” as The Weeknd drifts beautifully through his tale of drug addiction, Future’s crackling, ostensibly unimpressive singing lends a rawness and brokenness that renders the decadent scene of the song far more intense. When he shifts to rapping as nightmarish synths overtake the track, he’s perfectly right in extending an invitation to “hit the dust with the devil” — his narrator is gross and empowered, yet the hollowness at his core is moving. Then, Future appears again on the infectious first half of “Given Up On Me,” howling in his trademark Auto-Tune for release from, perhaps, the mortal coil, once again weaponizing vocal “weaknesses” to devastate.
Granted, there are some bumps in the road. “Cry For Me” is a true hit, but the mixing is strangely quiet on some elements. “Given Up On Me” and “Drive” lack punch, and teaming The Weeknd up with Giorgio Moroder, widely credited as the investor of disco music, should have resulted in a song far more memorable than “Big Sleep.” But even for the moments that may not resonate, the clarity of vision and the emotional peaks make “Hurry Up Tomorrow” a must-listen. One of the largest stars in music has created a true gestalt that continues to unfold its magic over multiple listens, and for those who have not fallen into The Weeknd's universe, this is as great a jumping off point as any.
If, as The Weeknd has said, this is the conclusion of his musical career under that stage name — and the album sure sounds like an end — then he’s penned a beautiful farewell, giving all he musically had. Still, it's hard to hear the love Abel Tesfaye has for his work that is so apparent here and believe that he’s putting down the microphone for good. It’s a new day for Tesfaye, but the incredibly creative energy coursing through this cinematic, morbid musical will surely carry him to some new sonic adventure, and the audacity that defines his discography will make whatever that next project is, just like this, an essential record.
