Labelling an album as ‘cinematic’ is a point of high praise, and it’s a label that The Weeknd’s latest album ‘Hurry Up Tomorrow’ has been receiving recently— to cut right to the chase, we couldn’t agree more. Across the lengthy span of more than eighty minutes, the record explores its themes of death and moving on in a poignant, thoughtful manner while remaining as infectious and instantly-gratifying as any of Abel Tesfaye’s past releases. Though we’ll attempt to break this album down, no comment can supersede the fact that The Weeknd is going out on a high with this one, shattering any preconceived notions of what he— as a singer, songwriter or artist— is even capable of.

Moving away from the conceptual framing device of ‘Dawn FM,’ ‘Hurry Up Tomorrow’ fades in on suspenseful synth chords, and doesn’t really let up from there— the vast majority of tracks transition seamlessly into the next, giving the album a fantastic sense of momentum that leaves you wanting to finish the entire thing every time. Opener ‘Wake Me Up’ immediately thrusts us into the action, with its Michael Jackson-esque beats and peppy melodies coming courtesy of legendary house producers Justice, and the following ‘Cry For Me’ is already becoming a fan-favourite for its anthemic chorus: Tesfaye did just perform it at the Grammys, after all. Musically, the record feels like a climactic victory lap for The Weeknd as he revisits and expands on ideas from all-throughout his discography— whether’s we’re returning to the dark R&B of his original ‘Trilogy’ or indulging in the 80s pop of ‘Starboy’ and ‘After Hours,’ ‘Hurry Up Tomorrow’ always feels remarkably comfortable and confident, executing each one in style. 

Even early in the record, though, we’re covering new ground— ‘São Paulo,’ with its frenetic vocal looping and blistering rhythms, acts as a wonderful love letter to Brazilian Funk music (and is much less irritating in the context of the album than it was as a single). The following one-two punch of ‘Baptized In Fear’ and ‘Open Hearts’ make that musical diversity a focus as we seamlessly move between the former’s ominous atmosphere and the latter’s anthemic synth lines. Make no mistake though: for all that musical experimentation, the record’s lyrical content is shockingly cohesive. Befitting of being The Weeknd’s final release, the record’s opening crop of tracks dives into Abel’s mindset as he contemplates bringing the moniker to an end— the ‘I Can’t F*cking Sing’ interlude, for instance, references a cancelled show at SoFi Stadium in 2022, which seems to have had a huge impact on his outlook. From the opening lines of the entire album, the weight given to these thematic ideas is very clear, and the record will only expand on them as it progresses.

“All I have in my legacy

I’ve been losing my memory

No afterlife, no other side

I’m all alone when it fades to black”

From here, ‘Hurry Up Tomorrow’ grows more introspective, providing a far more honest and unflinching consideration of its themes than most artists with this many eyes on them could manage. As the tempos begin to slow, the record takes on an isolated feeling, allowing each soundscape to really captivate you— the production, often handled by Mike Dean, is tremendous all-throughout the album, with every sample loop, percussive beat and vocal harmony finding its place among a pristine mix. In all honesty, the project doesn’t fully escape the pacing issues that often plague projects as ambitious and lengthy as this one: the more laid-back mood on cuts like ‘Opening Night’ and ‘Given Up On Me’ do represent somewhat of a lull in the tracklist, as the thrilling energy of ‘Cry For Me’ or ‘São Paulo’ begins to wane. Even despite the awkward inclusion of a telephone skit on ‘Reflections Laughing’ though, the passage is brimming with heart: just take Future’s feature on ‘Enjoy The Show,’ for instance, which has the trap superstar sounding more vulnerable and human than we’ve heard in quite some time.

“I can't feel my face anymore

I don't wanna give you any space anymore

I don't wanna feel like I'm alone anymore

I can't live without you, I've been going through withdrawals”

Admittedly, the sheer diversity of music and moods presented across ‘Hurry Up Tomorrow’ doesn’t always work in its favour— the wistful wanderings of ‘I Can’t Wait To Get There’ (which are massively uplifted by those Tyler The Creator-esque backing vocals) stumble awkwardly into the synth-fuelled, braggadocios bars of ‘Timeless’ in what may be the strangest transition on the entire record. Taking a wider perspective though, the remainder of the album is a continuous crescendo of emotion, forging forward just as easily as it indulges in nostalgia. The majority of later tracks take on a slower, more meditative feel— whether it be the relaxing layers of ‘Niagara Falls,’ the gorgeous refrains of ‘Drive’ or the heart-wrenching climax of ‘Without a Warning’— though keep the listener engaged throughout via, put quite simply, phenomenal songwriting. Even to a more casual listener, the cinematic chords of ‘Big Sleep’ and flowery piano runs of ‘The Abyss’ should be pause for thought— for those invested in the record’s continuous narrative, they’re downright spellbinding. As the closing title track (a truly divine piece of pop balladry) fades out, transitioning back into 2011’s ‘High For This,’ the sense of relief and satisfaction the album creates is nothing short of sensational— the final lyrics see Abel Tesfaye freeing himself from his own moniker, and it’s glorious.

“No, I need heaven after life

I want heaven when I die

I wanna change

I want the pain no more”

Of course, ‘Hurry Up Tomorrow’ is not a perfect record— we could criticise Lana Del Rey’s forgettable feature on ‘The Abyss,’ for instance, or narrow in on some rushed track transitions. However, to do so would be a disservice to the sheer majesty, the sheer ambition, the sheer excellence of this album. Attempting an eighty-four minute concept album centring around your own complex, emotionally-layered meta narrative is one thing: pulling it off so incredibly successfully is quite another. A shocking number of these tracks— pulling together lyrical depth, sleek production and sinfully amazing voice leading— sit among the cream-of-the-crop for contemporary pop and R&B, and each one is only elevated as part of the full experience. In layman’s terms: Abel Tesfaye’s final project as The Weeknd is nothing short of a triumph. An absolute triumph.