I was quick to dismiss this album following my first listen. It is so very sad and depressing, ergo the title of the EP. But because the project clocks a quick snack-sized 22 minutes, I endured through a couple more listens because apparently The Weeknd is so great musically, so much so that he has been compared to Micheal Jackson.
Abel Tesfayo (yes, that is his government name) relies on the allure of dark mystery even from the project’s cover art. His career started in anonymity, a seductive voice singing from the shadows. True to his stealthy nature, The Weeknd has suddenly dropped, with no promo, a new six-track EP, entitled My Dear Melancholy, (yes, with a comma).
The production is great and the feel is sober again, thank God! No talk of cocaine and percocets, no stupid marketing campaigns and no trash featuring which definitely works to the project’s success. The sound is crisp and everything (EVERYTHANG!) is drowned into reverb. It gets a bit repetitive. More than a bit.
His songwriting stays with the themes of seduction, sex, devastation, regret, breakup, sex, remorse, horny sex and reflection. Did I mention sex? ‘Fucking on sight’ is about to be a fad, courtesy of his Hurt You lyrics. His sound suggests it was recorded in a dark smoke filled room. Maybe Marvin’s room? The muses who inspired these songs truly left a mark on him. Sad and horny is an interesting combo.
It’s sexual, dark, and somewhat rewarding in production and lyricism. Though only six songs, it has the ability to pull listeners deep into its abyss, one that makes the outside world seem a little darker in the most beautiful way.
My Dear Melancholy, does not break any new ground sonically. What it allows is The Weeknd to shed his pop-star Starboy brightness and return to the late night. It’s where his kingdom was built, and where his music has always thrived.
Overall Rating ; 6/10