HURRY UP HMFMM

6y

I feel like this will be the closest he'll ever get to Kiss Land ( in a production wise ) or even better

ninety98

6y

That new album description on Apple Music got me so f***ing excited

Smokiness

6y

what does it say?

Smokiness

6y

"You can find love, fear, friends, enemies, violence, dancing, sex, demons, angels, loneliness, and togetherness all in the After Hours of the night.” —The Weeknd

Ever since The Weeknd emerged in 2011 with the mysterious and mesmerizing House of Balloons, the Toronto native has kept us on our toes: There was a trio of d***gy, lo-fi R&B mixtapes, the Top 40 cake-topper “Can’t Feel My Face,” and the glossy, Daft Punk-assisted rebirth that came with 2016’s Starboy. On After Hours, his fourth studio album, the singer returns to early-era Abel Tesfaye—the fragile falsetto, the smoky atmospheres, the whispered confessions. But here, they’re bolstered by some seriously brilliant beatmaking: muted, shuffling drum ’n’ bass (“Hardest to Love”), whistling sirens and staccato trap textures (“Escape From LA"), and flickers of French touch, warped dubstep, and Chicago drill that have been stretched and bent into abstractions. It’s as if Tesfaye spent the past four years scouring underground warehouse parties for rhythms that could make his low-lit R&B balladry feel hedonistic, thrilling, and alive. When the album does lift into moments of brightness, they’re downright radiant: “Scared to Live” is sweeping and sentimental, fit for the final scene in a romantic comedy, and “Blinding Lights”—a Max Martin-produced megahit boosted by a Mercedes-Benz commercial—is about as glitzy, glamorous, and gloriously ’80s as it gets.

Handsome Bachelor

6y

Well it says he returned to his old ways in that description so all you cats who cant let go of the Trilogy sound can I guess.

kiddash3r

6y

Euro fam stand up good morning

kiddash3r

6y

Euro fam stand up good morning

slyTendencies

6y

Today bout to feel like the longest day ever. It's only 2am over here f***

Levy

6y

This is gonna be a long day/night for me. I woke up already and the album coming out for me 6 in the morning .. and it’s 10 in the morning now 👀

Levy

6y

This is gonna be a long day/night for me. I woke up already and the album coming out for me 6 in the morning .. and it’s 10 in the morning now 👀

Smokiness

6y

"You can find love, fear, friends, enemies, violence, dancing, sex, demons, angels, loneliness, and togetherness all in the After Hours of the night.” —The Weeknd

Ever since The Weeknd emerged in 2011 with the mysterious and mesmerizing House of Balloons, the Toronto native has kept us on our toes: There was a trio of d***gy, lo-fi R&B mixtapes, the Top 40 cake-topper “Can’t Feel My Face,” and the glossy, Daft Punk-assisted rebirth that came with 2016’s Starboy. On After Hours, his fourth studio album, the singer returns to early-era Abel Tesfaye—the fragile falsetto, the smoky atmospheres, the whispered confessions. But here, they’re bolstered by some seriously brilliant beatmaking: muted, shuffling drum ’n’ bass (“Hardest to Love”), whistling sirens and staccato trap textures (“Escape From LA"), and flickers of French touch, warped dubstep, and Chicago drill that have been stretched and bent into abstractions. It’s as if Tesfaye spent the past four years scouring underground warehouse parties for rhythms that could make his low-lit R&B balladry feel hedonistic, thrilling, and alive. When the album does lift into moments of brightness, they’re downright radiant: “Scared to Live” is sweeping and sentimental, fit for the final scene in a romantic comedy, and “Blinding Lights”—a Max Martin-produced megahit boosted by a Mercedes-Benz commercial—is about as glitzy, glamorous, and gloriously ’80s as it gets.

Smokiness

6y

"You can find love, fear, friends, enemies, violence, dancing, sex, demons, angels, loneliness, and togetherness all in the After Hours of the night.” —The Weeknd

Ever since The Weeknd emerged in 2011 with the mysterious and mesmerizing House of Balloons, the Toronto native has kept us on our toes: There was a trio of d***gy, lo-fi R&B mixtapes, the Top 40 cake-topper “Can’t Feel My Face,” and the glossy, Daft Punk-assisted rebirth that came with 2016’s Starboy. On After Hours, his fourth studio album, the singer returns to early-era Abel Tesfaye—the fragile falsetto, the smoky atmospheres, the whispered confessions. But here, they’re bolstered by some seriously brilliant beatmaking: muted, shuffling drum ’n’ bass (“Hardest to Love”), whistling sirens and staccato trap textures (“Escape From LA"), and flickers of French touch, warped dubstep, and Chicago drill that have been stretched and bent into abstractions. It’s as if Tesfaye spent the past four years scouring underground warehouse parties for rhythms that could make his low-lit R&B balladry feel hedonistic, thrilling, and alive. When the album does lift into moments of brightness, they’re downright radiant: “Scared to Live” is sweeping and sentimental, fit for the final scene in a romantic comedy, and “Blinding Lights”—a Max Martin-produced megahit boosted by a Mercedes-Benz commercial—is about as glitzy, glamorous, and gloriously ’80s as it gets.

Smokiness

6y

"You can find love, fear, friends, enemies, violence, dancing, sex, demons, angels, loneliness, and togetherness all in the After Hours of the night.” —The Weeknd

Ever since The Weeknd emerged in 2011 with the mysterious and mesmerizing House of Balloons, the Toronto native has kept us on our toes: There was a trio of d***gy, lo-fi R&B mixtapes, the Top 40 cake-topper “Can’t Feel My Face,” and the glossy, Daft Punk-assisted rebirth that came with 2016’s Starboy. On After Hours, his fourth studio album, the singer returns to early-era Abel Tesfaye—the fragile falsetto, the smoky atmospheres, the whispered confessions. But here, they’re bolstered by some seriously brilliant beatmaking: muted, shuffling drum ’n’ bass (“Hardest to Love”), whistling sirens and staccato trap textures (“Escape From LA"), and flickers of French touch, warped dubstep, and Chicago drill that have been stretched and bent into abstractions. It’s as if Tesfaye spent the past four years scouring underground warehouse parties for rhythms that could make his low-lit R&B balladry feel hedonistic, thrilling, and alive. When the album does lift into moments of brightness, they’re downright radiant: “Scared to Live” is sweeping and sentimental, fit for the final scene in a romantic comedy, and “Blinding Lights”—a Max Martin-produced megahit boosted by a Mercedes-Benz commercial—is about as glitzy, glamorous, and gloriously ’80s as it gets.

Smokiness

6y

"You can find love, fear, friends, enemies, violence, dancing, sex, demons, angels, loneliness, and togetherness all in the After Hours of the night.” —The Weeknd

Ever since The Weeknd emerged in 2011 with the mysterious and mesmerizing House of Balloons, the Toronto native has kept us on our toes: There was a trio of d***gy, lo-fi R&B mixtapes, the Top 40 cake-topper “Can’t Feel My Face,” and the glossy, Daft Punk-assisted rebirth that came with 2016’s Starboy. On After Hours, his fourth studio album, the singer returns to early-era Abel Tesfaye—the fragile falsetto, the smoky atmospheres, the whispered confessions. But here, they’re bolstered by some seriously brilliant beatmaking: muted, shuffling drum ’n’ bass (“Hardest to Love”), whistling sirens and staccato trap textures (“Escape From LA"), and flickers of French touch, warped dubstep, and Chicago drill that have been stretched and bent into abstractions. It’s as if Tesfaye spent the past four years scouring underground warehouse parties for rhythms that could make his low-lit R&B balladry feel hedonistic, thrilling, and alive. When the album does lift into moments of brightness, they’re downright radiant: “Scared to Live” is sweeping and sentimental, fit for the final scene in a romantic comedy, and “Blinding Lights”—a Max Martin-produced megahit boosted by a Mercedes-Benz commercial—is about as glitzy, glamorous, and gloriously ’80s as it gets.