With “Hurry Up Tomorrow,” The Weeknd wants you to know he’s making his magnum opus. Long before the release of this project, the 34-year-old Canadian superstar hinted that this would be the final project under the name that made him a global icon. Clocking in at 85 minutes across 22 tracks, the trilogy-ending album was supposed to be a grand send-off, the ultimate culmination of his cinematic synth-pop era, complete with big-budget collaborators and a runtime ambitious enough to prove a point. The problem? That point never quite lands.
“All I have is my legacy / I been losing my memory / No afterlife, no other side / I’m all alone when it fades to black,” The Weeknd sings on the album opener “Wake Me Up.” With some help from Justice, the French dance music duo, the combination of The Weeknd’s introspective lyrics and Justice’s signature electro-funk sound create a compelling start, hinting at the weight the album intends to carry. The pulsating basslines and layered synths evoke a sense of urgency, highlighted especially during the transition leading into the second track, making it one of the most striking opening moments in his discography.
“São Paulo,” featuring Anitta, a Brazilian singer, is another instant highlight. This Brazilian funk, disco-inflected single grooves with a kinetic energy that stands out in the album. The Weeknd’s smooth vocals blend seamlessly with the rawness exerted by Anitta, and this creates a captivating duet that brings a more energetic flair to his discography.
Another notable track is “Reflections Laughing,” which features contributions from Travis Scott and Florence + The Machine. The song blends The Weeknd’s moody synth-pop with Florence Welch’s ethereal vocals and Scott’s rhythmic verses, creating a unique fusion of styles. The production is lush and atmospheric, with a phone call in the middle of the track to set the low-key tone that kicks in during the album’s second half.
But by the time the 11th track, “Given Up On Me,” rolls around, especially when it gets to the second half, exhaustion sets in. Any cinematic album should be long enough to immerse you, but here, the momentum gets stuck. The middle section is where “Hurry Up Tomorrow” falters — several boring, low-key, R&B minimalistic tracks blend into one another, repeating the same motifs and synths without much variation. It’s not that they’re bad, but they don’t justify their existence either. It’s a problem similar to “UTOPIA” by Travis Scott: all the big-budget, ambitious productions in the world can’t save an album that feels dragged to its length.
Thematically, the album fixates on The Weeknd’s usual vices — fame, regret and detachment — but this time, the perspective doesn’t feel fresh. The best part of “Dawn FM” was its existential framing, the feeling that he was actively trying to escape something bigger than himself. Here, it’s like he’s lingering too long in the same room, cycling through ideas we’ve already heard from him, again and again —from “I Can’t Wait To Get There” to “Give Me Mercy.” The repetition isn’t just in the lyrics but in the sound itself; the same moody synths and reverb-heavy vocals begin to blur together, making some of the later tracks feel indistinguishable from one another.
There’s no denying that the production is top-tier. Mike Dean’s synth work alone makes for some breathtaking moments, and when the album’s high points hit, they hit hard. But the lows — especially that sagging middle portion — drag the experience down too much to ignore. So, if the first half was a 9/10, the second half would probably be a 5/10.
Thus, if this really is The Weeknd’s final album under this moniker, it’s not exactly the grand farewell he intended. It’s a solid listen but not a transcendent one. It shines the brightest when the production and songwriting feel urgent to introduce listeners to something new with every track but falters when it drags into redundancy and loses momentum. A more concise version of this album would’ve been much better. Therefore, this album is worth a 6.5/10.
