download weeknd album my dear melancholy My Dear Melancholy, Coming off multi-platinum, Grammy-winning success with Starboy and apt placement on the Black Panther soundtrack, Abel Tesfaye shirks candy-coated summertime jams for aggrieved ballads with this six-track EP, issued with little advance notice. Considering its unswerving focus on romantic anguish and self-medication, and a listener's natural inclination to associate the pronouns with Tesfaye's famous exes, the EP might seem extreme, but it retraces familiar shapes in condensed form. Most obviously, "Call Out My Name" resembles "Earned It" with synthesized menace in place of strings and a dash of the distorted terror previously heard on "The Hills." In one verse directed at the object of his unrequited affection, Tesfaye confesses that he wasn't truthful when he said he "didn't feel nothing," then lashes out for being taken at his initial word and treated in kind, "just another pit stop." In that regard, the level of emotional maturity hasn't changed much since the mixtapes. Apart from the sly and sweet 2-step rhythm on "Wasted Times," the sound of the EP is bleary R&B with beats that drag and lurch, suited for Tesfaye's routine swings between self-pity and sexual vanity, chemically enhanced from one extreme to the other. For all his rehashed scenes, Tesfaye can be one of the most affecting vocalists in contemporary pop. When he sings "I got two red pills to take the blues away" in "Privilege," he might as well be slouched in the driver's seat of one of his luxury sports cars, staring into his open palm like he's holding all that he truly values. My Dear Melancholy, The Weeknd's 2016 album, Starboy , was the musical equivalent of a Hollywood blockbuster: action-packed, star-studded, with a little something for everyone. Here, he returns to his unfiltered, art-house roots with a release so intimate and tortured, you’ll feel like a fly on his bedroom wall. Stuttering snares, gauzy production and R-rated lyrics about sex and drugs (“I got two red pills to take the blues away”, he coos through a vocoder on “Privilege”) paint a vivid picture of a brooding Lothario—one that strongly resembles the dark artist we initially met on House of Balloons . This time around, he’s tapped gothic electro king Gesaffelstein, who has also produced for Kanye West, to bring a sheen to the shadows with neon synths and fuzzy echoes that lift his signature anguish into new emotional heights. My Dear Melancholy, The Weeknd's 2016 album, Starboy , was the musical equivalent of a Hollywood blockbuster: action-packed, star-studded, with a little something for everyone. Here, he returns to his unfiltered, art-house roots with a release so intimate and tortured, you’ll feel like a fly on his bedroom wall. Stuttering snares, gauzy production, and R-rated lyrics about sex and drugs (“I got two red pills to take the blues away,” he coos through a vocoder on “Privilege”) paint a vivid picture of a brooding Lothario—one that strongly resembles the dark artist we initially met on House of Balloons . This time around, he’s tapped gothic electro king Gesaffelstein, who has also produced for Kanye West, to bring a sheen to the shadows with neon synths and fuzzy echoes that lift his signature anguish into new emotional heights.