The Weeknd: Echoes of Silence - Album Review

The Weeknd
Echoes of Silence
Rating: Woof Daddy

Capping off a whirlwind year of almost unbearable hype, two mix tapes, mysterious videos, collaborations with Drake, and a hundred different remixes, Canadian collective The Weeknd finish up their mix tape trilogy with Echoes of Silence, which can be downloaded for free here. Where House of Balloons reveled in its luxurious tales of debauchery, and Thursday almost collapsed under its industrial cacophony, Echoes of Silence is akin to the long walk home from a night of excess. More muted and, dare I say it, more accessible than the previous installments, Echoes of Silence is perhaps the easiest entry point to The Weeknd, but is still uniquely The Weeknd. The focus this time is less on sonic exploration and more on Abel Tesfaye's gorgeous falsetto. Indeed, I had never really noticed how closely his voice comes to Michael Jackson's until this release and his stunning cover of "Dirty Diana," retitled here as "D.D."



Where the original track is all stadium ready, 80s hair metal guitars, The Weeknd reign things in somewhat, adding a more industrial sheen with buzzing bass lines and booming drum machines, and of course, Tesfaye's amazing falsetto.

For the most part, this album shows a stunning restraint that gives a little insight into where The Weeknd is heading. Not to say that their sound or aesthetic is getting more mainstream, if anything, the mainstream is just now catching up to and incorporating their sound (witness the rise of artists like Drake). Their sound, if you can call it more mature, doesn't seek to shock for shock's sake, instead, letting the track unfold in keeping with the theme and mood. "Montreal" is pure gorgeousness. Over an insistent beat, lonely atmospherics and piano, Tesfaye recounts a lover's regret over a failed relationship, intoning "Cause ain't nobody feels the way that I feel when I'm alone."



Where previously, the narrator of the tracks would have absolutely no conscience about getting what they want from a woman, the song "Next" shows that somewhere deep inside the narrator does have feelings, trying to convince himself he is not in love by denigrating the stripper he obsesses over, knowing she only wants him because he's next.



This is not to say that there aren't still The Weeknd tracks of old. The most adventurous track, and actually the most exciting track, is the menacing "Initiation." Detailing the corruption of his girl into the debaucherous pleasures of drugs, drink, and sex, Tesfaye's voice is pitch shifted and twisted into demonic layers as his girl falls deeper into the well.



"XO/The Host" recounts the tale of a girl coming back to her enabler, who has no qualm with taking advantage of her, singing "If they don't let you in/You know where to find me/And if you wanna go again/You can always call me."



While I still love these kind of lascivious tracks, the most telling thing about The Weeknd is that, ultimately, they don't want to be pigeonholed into being "the band that sings about drugs, sex and booze." On tracks like the title track, what it ultimately comes down to is that people do what they do so they are not alone, and most people are too afraid to admit that to anyone, even themselves.



Echoes of Silence is the perfect ending to the trilogy envisioned by Tesfaye. I will admit I was nervous after Thursday came out because it seemed like he was taking his aesthetic too far in one direction, but it all comes back with this release, and makes my rather tepid review of Thursday seem premature. In the context of the trilogy, each album serves a single purpose that in turn illuminates the whole. Echoes of Silence is more exciting proof that The Weeknd is the artist to watch in 2012.

Rating Scale:
Chilfos: masterpiece; coolest thing I've heard in ages.
Woof Daddy: excellent; just a hair away from being a masterpiece.
Grrrr: very good; will definitely be considered for my top releases of the year.
Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It: good; definitely invites further listens and peaks one's interest for more material.
Meh: not horrible, but certainly not great; could have either been polished, trimmed, or re-thought.
Jeez Lady: what the hell happened? Just plain bad. They should hang their heads in shame and be forced to listen to Lady Gaga ad nauseam as penance.
Tragicistani: so bad, armed villagers with pitchforks and torches should run the artist out of the country for inflicting this abomination on the human race.