The Weeknd is More Than Sex Music
Image Courtesy: Spotify
“The Weeknd? That’s just sex music.” A version of this statement is what I hear almost every time I bring up the art and legacy of Abel Tesfaye, most widely known by his stage name and self-proclaimed alter ego “The Weeknd.” And it’s quite disappointing to realize how little most people know or even care about The Weeknd’s true identity and message. They’re not entirely to blame, though, as many of The Weeknd’s most popular songs do have prominent sexual overtones — but there is always a complex message lying deeper beneath the racy lyrics and sensual R&B melodies that most tend to miss– with the exception of “Often” from his 2016 album “Beauty Behind the Madness.” Now that one is fairly sex music.
Because I love The Weeknd I reference his music all the time, and I’ve observed an interesting pattern in the responses I get from people. They either see it as shallow “sex music” or regard it as beautiful, psychological art. There is rarely an inbetween. And I’ve come to notice that those who protest the notion that The Weeknd’s work is emotionally complex and substantial are really only familiar with his mainstream hits. They like to reference “Starboy,” “I Can’t Feel My Face,” or “The Hills” in their rebuttals, but even these songs are cerebral and emotionally compelling if you read just beneath the surface. The Weeknd’s discography is satirical of the popstar lifestyle littered with parties, drugs, and meaningless sex that musicians often advertise and young people idolize. Though it may initially seem that he is flaunting these things himself, it is important that we understand the distinction between the artist, Abel Tesfaye, and the character of The Weeknd.
Image Courtesy: Pinterest
Tesfaye regards The Weeknd as an alter-ego that he uses as a tool to illustrate and criticize the forementioned unfulfilling popstar lifestyle. He channels his experiences with addiction and heartbreak into the character, while also making The Weeknd a fundementally self-destructive individual, creating the ultimate toxic party-boy persona. In an interview with GQ magazine, he explains:
“The lines were blurry at the beginning. And as my career developed—as I developed as a man—it’s become very clear that Abel is someone I go home to every night. And The Weeknd is someone I go to work as.” (“The Weeknd vs Abel Tesfaye” GQ 2021)
For Tesfaye, The Weeknd is the personification of his own toxic tendencies that he resents and condemns, yet finds it difficult to free himself of. In fact, most of his music videos show The Weeknd being beaten up or killed, which seems to symbolize Tesfaye’s desire to escape his self-destructive habits.
“I think it’s me removing The Weeknd from Abel...I think it’s me removing The Weeknd from the world, but he still finds his way back. He keeps coming out.” (“The Weeknd vs Abel Tesfaye” GQ 2021)
This recurring motif helps us understand the message of Tesfaye’s art, yet the general population of listeners is totally unaware of it.
Image Courtesy: Instagram
This persona is only a part of The Weeknd’s psychological appeal. I find the true messages of his songs to be the most compelling. Take a second look at “Starboy,” for example. It’s not just three minutes and fifty seconds of The Weeknd bragging about his riches and celebrity status. He is self-aware and sarcastic in describing the empty lifestyle he now lives as a result of his fame and success, blaming his fans for catapulting him here when he says “look what you’ve done.” In “The Hills,” The Weeknd sings about an affair he has with a married woman in which their relationship is purely sexual and transactional in nature, saying “I only love it when you touch me, not feel me.” It comes as a depressing realization that The Weeknd is either too afraid of emotional vulnerability to pursue a real relationship or is instead too numbed by his LA lifestyle to even want one, both a common theme is his music.
In perhaps one of the saddest and most vulnerable of his songs, “I Was Never There,” The Weeknd acknowledges that being on the receiving end of his toxic behavior is agonizing and nearly fatal, explaining how he abuses his own emotional health for a toxic woman “again and again” until he feels “nothing,” unsure if he will survive the relationship. “In the Night” tells a story of abuse and “Can’t Feel my Face” is about Tesfaye’s terrifying struggle with a cocaine addiction. There are numerous examples, but if you’re interested you should check out The Weeknd’s songs for yourself. Pay attention to the lyrics and analyze Tesfaye’s messages– I promise you will find more substance than you expected.
But if you’re not interested, don’t. I’m not saying you have to like The Weeknd now just because there is unrealized dimension to his work. We all have different tastes and The Weeknd may just not be it for you– that is perfectly fine. But I hope you find a deeper appreciation or sense of respect for the music Abel Tesfaye makes. In the above examples, I touched on some of his more popular songs, but I seriously recommend his earlier work if you want to truly understand who The Weeknd is. Start with the Trilogy album, which created the genre and established the themes of his entire discography. I hope you enjoy decoding the messages and coming to fully understand the art and legacy that is The Weeknd. At the very least I hope you find it to be more than “sex music.”
Strike Out,
Writer: Cameron Oglesby
Editors: Katie Sharp, Natalie Daskal
Notre Dame
