What Exactly Is the Weeknd Apologizing For?

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On the title track of his 2025 album “Hurry Up Tomorrow“, Abel “The Weeknd” Tesfaye sings, “Cleanse me with your fire, who else will bear the burden of my wrongs?” The song, a brooding, synthesized ballad, serves as a kind of explanation for something. Tesfaye admits that his love is fake, and he later states that he’s tired of deceit and suffering. However, the ambiguity of the song’s lyrics makes it unclear what exactly Tesfaye is apologizing for. Without clear details, it’s challenging to understand the sincerity behind the song’s message.

The central theme of the movie “Hurry Up Tomorrow,” directed by Trey Edward Shults and featuring the artist Tesfaye, is explored in this film. It’s intended as a companion piece or extended advertisement for the album of the same name. The movie can be described as half “Sound of Metal” and half “Misery,” but unfortunately, those films already exist. In the first half of “Hurry Up Tomorrow,” Tesfaye grapples with his deteriorating voice during a demanding tour where he’s tormented by partying associates and a questionable manager, Lee (Barry Keoghan). He’s plagued by nightmares and regret over a damaged relationship, symbolized by an ex-girlfriend played by Riley Keough who appears mainly in old iPhone memories and voicemails. She hints at his wrongdoings without explicitly stating them, leaving the nature of his mistakes unclear. It seems Tesfaye avoids confronting his own, whether real or imagined.

As a passionate Weeknd enthusiast and self-proclaimed trouble magnet, I am Anima. In an unusual turn of events, I’m caught igniting an old house while tears stream down my face, for reasons unknown. My next stop is one of his electrifying concerts, where our eyes meet during a soulful performance. Tragically, he temporarily loses his voice on stage, causing him to flee in distress. The enigmatic Tesfaye and I cross paths backstage, embarking on an intriguing journey through a carnival filled with laughter, gaming, and heartwarming embraces. It’s as if we were recreating scenes from A Star Is Born, but without the need for dialogue between our characters.

At a hotel later, Tesfaye shares with me a sneak peek of an upcoming track – “Hurry Up Tomorrow” from his album Hurry Up Tomorrow. The music moves me to tears, as if the emotional weight of his decade-long pop artistry is amplified in this film. There’s no shortage of emotional responses to Tesfaye’s music throughout this captivating cinematic experience.

In the morning, Tesfaye no longer shows Anima affectionate kindness; instead, he’s grown cold, distant, even harsh. So, much like a character from a movie might act, Anima decides to take drastic measures: she strikes him over the head and binds him to the bed. Then, she plays Tesfaye’s music for him, pleading with him to explain why his cheerful tunes conceal such sadness. As she dances to “Blinding Lights,” she points out the lyrics as being rather melancholic, while Tesfaye cries, restrained in a Christ-like pose on the bed. The scene is rather daringly over-the-top: Tesfaye’s emotional turmoil seems more like desperate devotion to his own music than genuine distress. The film struggles to strike a balance between portraying him as a tragic outcast and an obsessive fan. A significant portion of the story hinges on the understanding that Tesfaye is toxic, though the movie doesn’t explicitly define what this means. Instead, it presents only his rude behavior, his breakup with Keough’s character, and the necessity for him to confront these issues in order for Anima to release him from his predicament.

In his previous writing project, Tesfaye delved into the role of Tedros Tedros in HBO’s series titled “The Idol“. Tedros was a charismatic yet manipulative pop guru who exploited up-and-coming pop star Jocelyn (Lily-Rose Depp) by encouraging her to explore dirtier and more explicit music through a BDSM-influenced transformation. However, the people around Jocelyn, including her team and friends, were aware of Tedros’s deceitful intentions. In essence, Tedros was a morally bankrupt antagonist who refused redemption or salvation. Portraying this character required Tesfaye to put himself in a compromising position, showcasing the seedy underbelly of the music industry. Essentially, “The Idol” could have potentially destroyed a career if a zealous fan replicated Tedros’s actions. The series was almost a valiant attempt at failure, providing a harrowing exploration of the pop industry that opted for fiction instead of glorification.

Tesfaye has declared that he plans to take a break from the Weeknd persona for a while. His music is characterized by a melancholic, enigmatic vibe combined with energetic party tracks – a juxtaposition that almost caused Ortega’s Anima to ignite. One might wonder why his songs are so sad and what secrets he keeps from his audience, his followers, and those who adore him. Tesfaye remains silent on these questions. He merely offers his music as the means to decipher his sorrow. As he sings at the end, the power of his music and the authenticity of his melancholy persuade Anima to spare him. He emerges unscathed from the destruction that could have been devastating, walking through its ashes. The scene shifts from the hotel to backstage, mirroring the ending of a movie. Once more, Tesfaye gazes into the mirror, more terrified by his reflection now than he was initially.

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2025-05-16 23:55