The Weeknd performs at the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival at The Empire Polo Club.
The Weeknd performs at the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival at The Empire Polo Club.
Abel Tesfaye is on fire right now. That's him in the video for Can't Feel My Face, aping Jackson's dance moves and moonwalking across the stage so fast he's engulfed in flames.
It's a great metaphor for The Weeknd's career, which, thanks to Can't Feel My Face's smash success,is on the precipice of going gangbusters. Not Kanye big time, not Justin Timberlake big time — we're talking Taylor Swift big time.
The Canadian's third album, Beauty Behind the Madness, should be Tesfaye's shot for the top. The man with the octopus dreadlocks is becoming a ubiquitous voice across pop, hip-hop and R&B, the go-to guy for sweet hooks on depressing sex jams.
He spans divides too, able to work with big name rappers Drake and Kanye, as well as electro-pop stars Lorde and Disclosure. Swift's a fan — the pair shared a stage to duet on Can't Feel My Face.
This is his time, this is his chance to become the next Michael Jackson. But Beauty Behind the Madness doesn't quite get there.
Yes, it's better than 2013's downer, Kiss Land. And there are grand statements that deserve to be heard echoing around stadiums. Like Losers, an upbeat synth jam more reminiscent of Passion Pit or Rudimental, and In the Night, which again references Jackson with its shimmering pop echoing from the 80s.
Two late-album guest appearances steal the show: Dark Times is an electrifying ballad with Tesfaye going toe-to-toe with Ed Sheeran, while Prisoner is a show-stopper, with Tesfaye cooing about his addictions while Lana Del Rey purrs over understated trip-hop. With all their woes, they're a perfect pairing.
But there are problems — especially with the tracklist. As good as Often's rumbling thump is, it first came out in the middle of 2014, while Earned It appeared on January's Fifty Shades of Grey soundtrack. It gives the album a dated feel, like Tesfaye's trying to mimic his first album, Trilogy, a compilation of his early mixtapes. He's better than that.
And there are lyrical problems too. In an effort for mass appeal, Tesfaye's clung to cliches. "I get you touching on your body," he moans in Acquainted's slow-mo sexfest. "I'll always be there for you — I have no shame," he chants like a mantra on Shameless, before a ridiculously excessive guitar solo is unleashed.
And opening snorer Real Life contains the clunker, "I'm better off when I'm alone." If you're new to The Weeknd and wanted an album of Jacko-inspired pop jams like Can't Feel My Face, that one alone will send you packing.
Undoubtedly, the best song here is The Hills — a grimy Hollywood sexscapade of pure pop escapism. The video features Tesfaye walking away from the smoking wreckage of a car crash, which then explodes behind him.
Perhaps that's a better metaphor for his career: he's almost on fire, he just didn't quite grab the zeitgeist. Next time, then.
