On his sprawling sixth album, Abel Tesfaye crafts a cinematic farewell to The Weeknd persona that’s equal parts exhausting and exhilarating. “Hurry Up Tomorrow” unfolds across 22 tracks and 90 minutes, weaving together Brazilian funk, stark house beats, and lush 70s soul arrangements into what Tesfaye calls a “Frankenstein” of sound – an apt description for an album that seems determined to encompass every facet of his musical journey.
Opening track “Wake Me Up,” sets the tone with synthesizers that shimmer like distant stars before dropping into a groove reminiscent of 80s boogie. “All I have is my legacy,” Tesfaye sings, his voice carrying the weight of finality. It’s a sentiment that echoes throughout the album, which arrives draped in end-times imagery and retirement rumours that feel more concrete than similar hints dropped during 2022’s “Dawn FM.”
The production throughout is immaculate, particularly when Tesfaye lets his collaborators push him into unexplored territory. “São Paulo” morphs from Brazilian funk into pummeling house music, while “Given Up on Me” stitches together fragments of Nina Simone’s “Wild Is the Wind” with chopped piano chords and trap beats. These moments of sonic adventurousness provide welcome relief from the album’s occasionally tedious lyrical preoccupations with fame’s downsides.
Indeed, the contrast between the music’s inventiveness and the words’ limitations creates an odd tension. While tracks like “Baptized in Fear” capture genuine vulnerability in depicting panic attacks, others fall into well-worn tropes about the isolation of success. When Tesfaye bemoans his “penthouse prison” or compares himself to a bird in a “gilded cage,” the metaphors land with a thud against the sophistication of the soundscapes.
The album finds surer footing in its quieter moments. “Take Me Back to LA” sees Tesfaye looking backward to his early days in Scarborough, his vocal runs adding emotional depth to an already intimate portrait. “I Can’t Wait to Get There” pairs his precise falsetto with vintage R&B textures that recall his earliest work while pointing toward new possibilities.
Guest appearances are carefully curated and surprisingly effective. Anitta brings authentic Brazilian energy to “São Paulo,” while Lana Del Rey’s spectral vocals on “The Abyss” feel less like a feature and more like a haunting presence. Even Future’s appearances on “Enjoy the Show” and “Given Up on Me” resist his usual tropes in favour of something more contemplative.
The album builds toward a theatrical finale with the title track, which carries echoes of “Purple Rain” in its grandiose arrangement. “I’m ready for the end… I have no more fights left to win,” Tesfaye declares, before the track cycles back to reference his debut single “High for This” – a clever bit of narrative closure that nonetheless leaves the door open for future reinvention.
“Hurry Up Tomorrow” is many things: a goodbye letter, a film score without its film (though that’s coming later this year), and a testament to Tesfaye’s evolution from mysterious Toronto upstart to global pop phenomenon. Its ambition and scope impress even when its execution falters, suggesting an artist more interested in swinging for the fences than playing it safe on his way out. If this truly is The Weeknd’s curtain call, it’s a fittingly theatrical exit – even if it occasionally gets lost in its own grandiose vision.
The Weeknd plays Montreal this July
