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The result was a collection of lush, cinematic songs marred by a whiff of party-boy boilerplate.
The shtick became self-aware and lost a little luster.
But at the root of the thinking is people yearning for their own needs to be spoken for.
What setsMelancholyapart from the Weeknds last three studio albums is size and scope.
This simplicity is structural, too; the exposition in each track is limited to a verse or two.
The singer emotes in the back end in lieu of a third verse or a repeat chorus.
This allows Abel to get to the point with surgical precision.
With enough repeat listens, the truth of the record shows face: Pain is purifying.
An ache that wont go away commands your attention in full.Melancholyhas tunnel vision because heartbreak is enveloping.
The candor is chilling.
The Weeknds taste for expensive-sounding beats washes his bitterness down sweetly.
The mix keeps the music multidimensional.
Try Me sounds like Dr. DresKeep Their Heads Ringingot a makeover for the Xanax trap era.
Like GZA said onWu-Tang Forever: Make it brief, son, half short and twice strong.
