The Weeknd: Method in Madness
Written for: STATUS Magazine, August 2015
Photos from: MCA Music Inc., edited by STATUS team
Abel Tesfaye was just a 17-year-old boy from Scarborough when he decided to drop out of high school, leave, and never come back — all in the span of a weekend. Fast forward to eight years, six albums, and numerous awards later, and that same vagabond teenager now sits at the throne of R&B success. Now 25 years old, the singer, songwriter, and producer only recently broke through the air of mystery he built around himself when he came into the scene.
Releasing his first few songs on YouTube back in 2010 under his moniker, “The Weeknd,” Abel held a strong aversion towards the press — consistently turning down the media in hopes that his music would speak for itself. At some point, he even went full cipher by suppressing his face and birth name from the public. Maybe it was the reticence that made the idea of The Weeknd all the more appealing, as fans got to enjoy his art without being distracted by or drawn to a mere poster child persona. But one thing was certain: Abel was glad to remain behind the curtains.
In 2011, Abel gradually started to put a face to the music when he began performing live for selected crowds. He had also just released his holy trinity of albums that catapulted him to prominence. By then, he was backed up by online buzz and curiosity from the public eye — all wanting to penetrate the obscure world in which The Weeknd existed. But he was careful, always tiptoeing along the vicious tightrope of the pop culture realm and cautious not to fall into a pit of short-changed publicity stunts.”
“The music industry seems to run a lot on hype,” his co-managers told Billboard. “Abel wanted to see where things would go with his songs living on their own merits.” Floating into the airwaves, House of Balloons came on strong for a first album — often preaching pharmacological debauchery, coupled with dark, sensual undertones. All this was delivered through his sharp vocals that could make their way to your inner visceral feelings, without you even realizing it. From the hard-opener “High For This” to “Glass Table Girls,” Abel makes no apologies, even if it means moving listeners with such disturbing, sensitive topics. The end product, however, is always a thematic masterpiece that’s hard to turn away from.
The following albums he put out a few months after continued his tale of troubled lovers, as revealed by the dripping desperation of Thursday and tragic tastefulness of Echoes of Silence. While the albums were released for free under his own label, it was only a matter of time before major labels would start taking notice of the low-profile artist. In the same year he got signed under Universal Music Group, he was immediately catapulted to the forefronts of this idiosyncratic new breed of R&B.
Similar to many other R&B and hip-hop producers, Abel builds songs around samples from other artists’ works. Instead of relying on the usual jazz and soul singles, he layers alt-rock beats from classic crooners like Siouxsie and the Banshees, and Beach House. Perhaps one of the most vital yet overlooked traces one can unearth in his songs is the influence of the late “King of Pop” himself, Michael Jackson. Though the two artists share a tremulous with their vocal approach, Jackson’s impact is far more profound than that.
“These kids, you know, they don’t have a Michael Jackson,” Abel told the New York Times. “They don’t have a Prince. They don’t have a Whitney. Who else is there? Who can really do it at this point?” But rather than following Jackson’s legacy of suave bravado, he diverged and took a different path — completely taking the “tortured artist” branding to heart. At the time, R&B wasn’t exactly the most prosperous genre.
Many critics claim it had devolved into a bland side dish to the main course that was hip-hop. Gradually, however, other R&B singers started coming to the fore — from Frank Ocean and Miguel, to The Internet and Jhene Aiko. These then-new names started breathing new life into a scene that last made notable waves during the era of Aaliyah and Lauryn Hill. Now, there was The Weeknd too — who chose not to conform to crowd-pleasing tactics, sugar-coated lyrics, and sell-out synths. He grabbed R&B by the throat and made it entirely his own.
While his 2013 debut record Kiss Land was a hit with culture vultures and music critics, it didn’t translate so well into commercial appeal, having sold only 268,000 copies. In another interview with the New York Times, Abel’s sound engineer, Jason Quenneville, compared his previous albums to an “OK, fine, I’ll play ball” moment. On the other hand, Kiss Land was more on the lines of “OK fine, let’s play ball, but you’re swinging a plate of spaghetti.” Fortunately, The Weeknd’s fan base held their ground and pledged continuous support.
But again, Abel isn’t here to please — and things weren’t about to change after a few sour reviews. “The album is about what young men think but will never say out loud. I’ve learned to pretty much not give a shit, and it kind of morphed into this sound, and it works,” he told MTV. “There’s nothing else I’d rather do than this.”
In the middle of the year, The Weeknd announced the release of Beauty Behind The Madness, a follow-up to Kiss Land. This time, his album included chart-toppers like “Can’t Feel My Face,” “The Hills,” and “Often.” As Abel continued to spiral into success, the limelight gave him fewer places to hide. He had since landed himself a spot on the 50 Shades of Grey soundtrack with his soothingly seductive ballad, “Earned It.” At the same time, he also made R&B history by becoming the first artist to claim the top three slots on the chart for the said singles. On top of this, he bagged the BET Centric Award at the 2015 BET Awards for his 50 Shades contribution, which he got to perform alongside Alicia Keys.
“As is so often the way at award ceremonies, the newbie has to team up with a legend. But he doesn’t need her, as he demonstrates when delivering a throbbing version of “The Hills,” and laying its bad intentions thrillingly bare in the process,” wrote the New York Post. “His time is most definitely now.”
Despite his current fame, Abel stays true and owes his sanity to his music. He wouldn’t let his art fade into the mainstream — because his music is far from a mere celebration of the end of days, and goes beyond the promise of romance and relaxation that comes with a Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. His is a lyrical genuflection on matters of the heart, meant to quietly pierce and over-indulge. Republic CEO Monte Lipman shares with Billboard, “The one thing the modern music industry hasn’t been able to manipulate in 60 to 70 years is word of mouth. That’s what The Weeknd possesses, and it’s been incredibly valuable.”