The Radioactive Rebranding of The Weeknd

Abel Tesfaye is a fascinating man. And that’s largely because he continues to redefine and reimagine who Abel Tesfaye actually is.

As Tesfaye, better known by his stage name The Weeknd, dives headfirst into his third studio album Starboy, it’s clear that a radical identity shift is underway for him. This time a year ago, the Canadian phenom was on top of the universe. “Can’t Feel My Face” was still in the midst of its scorched-earth crusade through the record charts, teaming up with its jagged, bass-stuffed counterpart “The Hills” to carry Beauty Behind the Madness to Spotify supremacy and give Tesfaye his first number-one album. Meanwhile, Tesfaye rode the ensuing wave of mega-popularity to award show performances left and right, collaborations with some of the biggest artists in the industry, and a gig swapping saliva with Bella Hadid, one of the most sought-after supermodels on the planet.

But with last week’s release of his new album’s eponymous lead single last week, times have changed for Tesfaye. Gone is the big hair, the grapevine curls that had become his trademark look. A figment of the past is the poppy, funk-inspired sound that propelled him to the mountaintop. In its stead, a more mature, dystopian vibe that puts an evolutionary twist on his dark R&B roots. The message Tesfaye appears to be conveying? I’m still a got damn star, but I’m sure as hell not gonna conform to the labels you put on my music or the expectations/limitations you place on me as an artist. Another pop star washout quickly nearing the end of his 15 minutes of fame? Think again.

Oh, and if Tesfaye’s rebrand campaign wasn’t obvious enough already, the music video literally opens with him killing the past version of himself and proceeding to destroy all of the gold and platinum albums in his house with a blunt object that’s probably best described as a Jesus lightsaber.

It’s one part Kylo Ren, one part Orwellian performance art, one part Fast and the Furious, and all parts badass. Such a display will do no favors towards assuaging the modern-day Michael Jackson comparisons that have followed Tesfaye throughout his career either, especially given its stark resemblance to themes touched on by Jackson in the extended version of the “Black or White” music video back in 1991, a time when the King of Pop was going through a similar reevaluation of his place in society. Facing growing scrutiny/intrusion from the tabloids thanks to his changing physical appearance and his increasingly bizarre personal life, Jackson got away from it all by using “Black or White” and the ensuing album Dangerous as an opportunity to reinvent himself as a musician, one who was infinitely more socially-conscious but who also embraced an edgier, post-pop sound to broaden his appeal to younger audiences and to affirm his transcendent greatness to the masses. Simply put, it was Starboy before Starboy was Starboy. Raw, destructive energy? Check. Smashing things cathartically? Check. Dancing up a cloud of smoke and broken glass? Check. Hell, the panther sitting in the passenger seat of the luxury sports car with Tesfaye may very well be the same CGI panther that Jackson morphed into some two-and-a-half decades earlier.

Tesfaye has always had an intriguing sort of MJ-on-cocaine appeal about him. But even the Herculean task of carrying Jackson’s spirit animal with him into the 2010s might be selling Tesfaye’s talents short. The stratosphere’s the limit for the 26-year-old sensation, who is just entering the prime of his artistic career. We see it through his vibrant neo-noir promotional images for Starboy, which very soon may have Quentin Taratino knocking on Tesfaye’s door arm-in-arm with his copyright lawyer. We hear it through the gritty, chaotic essence of “False Alarm” (the second and only other track off the album to be released so far), a song featuring coarse alt-rock samples so captivating that you briefly forget you’re not listening to something by post-1996 Radiohead. And we’re about to taste it through the crow Tesfaye will be having us eat once the album drops in its entirety on November 25 for having the nerve to write him off as a one-and-done.

No ceiling, no labels, no stopping him. All weekends may come to an end, but this one is coming for the throne. Hold onto your Grammys, folks.