Abel Tesfaye appears to have crammed the creative arc of a career into little more than nine months.
The term “internet phenomenon” has become almost ubiquitous in up-and-coming-artist biographies these days, but it should be invariably viewed with trepidation. In the case of 21-year-old Canadian Abel Tesfaye, who records as the Weeknd (apparently pronounced as “the weakened”), early internet whispers accompanying the release last March of his first free album, House of Balloons, rapidly turned into a roar.
With his calculated and clever take on modern pop R&B, the Toronto-based Ethiopian combined savvy surprises, like the wholesale sampling of Siouxsie and the Banshees’ post-punk classic Happy House on the title track, and steals from Beach House, Cocteau Twins and Aaliyah elsewhere, alongside beats and structures that suggest producers Doc McKinney and Illangelo are more enamoured with Burial than R Kelly.
The album boasted enthusiastic endorsements from countryman Drake, and almost unprecedented hype from blogs and the mainstream music media, and it was interesting to see how many were quickly prepared to overlook the rampant misogyny of the lyrics, or the style-over-substance song structures, in order to crown him the new king.
As dubious as some of its foundations were, House of Balloons was an indisputably impressive debut from a new voice that stood out in the saccharine R&B world, undoubtedly helped by the slightly risqué graphic design, skilfully aimed to capture the zeitgeist.
By August, there was a sequel, Thursday, once again released free, with more quirky sampling (Kate Bush, etc) backing Tesfaye’s even darker, and less inventive, musings on his new-found fame and lifestyle. Still with barely a live performance or interview to his name, he unleashed the final part of the trilogy, Echoes of Silence, on December 21, causing a demand that was serious enough to crash his website, and subsequently score him a highly prized slot at Coachella 2012.
Opening with a pedestrian, turgid cover of Michael Jackson’s most misogynistic song, Dirty Diana, and only really firing up on The Fall, which sits atop a spectacular beat from another internet superstar, New Jersey beatmaker Clams Casino, the Weeknd appears to have crammed the creative arc of a career into little more than nine months. Commissioned to remix Lady Gaga and Florence and the Machine, before even actually selling a single record, Tesfaye may well turn out to be a pixel-perfect reflection of the dizzying speed yet frequent vapidity of so much internet hoopla.
ECHOES OF SILENCE, The Weeknd (available to download from the-weeknd.com).
COALS TO NEWCASTLE, RIDDIMS TO JAMAICA
High Stakes
On the flip side of the usual “internet sensation” hyperbole are others who make full use of the incredible network and communication possibilities of the web, but choose to do so in an industrious, dignified way. Auckland dancehall production team High Stakes (Tiopira McDowell and Simon Howden) are a case in point.
Singled out in the Listener in 2010 as ones to watch, the duo have just exceeded all expectations by reaching No 1 on the official Jamaican singles chart with the impossibly infectious ONLY MAN SHE WANT (Sounique), vocalised by rising star Popcaan of Vybz Kartel’s Gaza crew.
Like most worthwhile achievements, it hasn’t happened overnight: the pair have been plugging away for five years, transforming themselves from committed newcomers in Jamaica’s ultra-
competitive music market to in-demand producer oddities from the far side of the world.
Kiwis love to lay claim to dubious statistics about New Zealand being, per capita, the keenest supporters of reggae, but High Stakes’ success is in sharp contrast to jazz-school graduates making BBQ reggae that can only be exported to expats. Completely in tune with the glossy pop stylings that colour the modern dancehall scene, the pair have risen through the ranks by outgunning their Jamaican counterparts, and deserve some local industry recognition for a truly amazing, unique achievement.