Alone Again sees The Weeknd talking from a place of loneliness in the face of his alienating fame and lifestyle. This, in turn, makes him turn to sex workers in Las Vegas as an attempt to mend it — through attempts to find some sort of drug-fueled connection. All in all, this is explored in a truly candid and heartfelt manner. On the audible side of things, the track has some enjoyable electronic production that sets up a nicely lethargic ambience. This also sets up the moving trap beat of the second half quite well.

Low-Mid 8.

Too Late continues with the admission of guilt present in the last track, this time as an attempt to beg a past lover to come back, as he can’t let them go. Moreover, the perspectives on fame now additionally cover a distaste for the publicising of his private life. Again, all of this combines in a way that feels honest, genuine, and simply human. Instrumentally, the verses are a submerging atmosphere made up of silky falsetto vocals and ambient synths. On the other hand, the chorus features a clean and calming albeit danceable mood that delivers an applaudable marriage between energetic and minimalistic.

Mid 8.

Hardest to Love explores a dead relationship and continues to boast lyrics that are enjoyably solid and to the point. Here, The Weeknd morosely asks his previous partner to remember their dynamics while pondering why she can’t let him go — simultaneously taking the blame once again. Audibly, this cut has an appreciable Drum ‘n’ Bass influence, which is an aspect of the production that, along with all the lush melodies in the chorus, admirably embellishes The Weeknd’s performance. However, despite being deserving of remark, it can feel overly one-note or not as explorative at times.

High 7.

Scared to Live: Foremost, “And if I held you back, at least I held you close” is a beautiful lyric present right away in the first verse. This beauty continues with The Weeknd urging a past lover to learn to love once more, and he assumes the guilt for the seemingly gigantic heartbreak, too. Namely, he expresses regret during the bridge, while alluding to his cheating too—thus giving a glimpse at what tainted his partner’s ability to love. Incidentally, this atmosphere maintains the calm approach to synthpop of previous tracks, successfully creating a melancholic and electronically driven mood. Moreover, this is employed with an enjoyable, though somewhat humdrum, build-up for the second half. This latter section is emotive due to The Weeknd’s undeniably evocative vocal performance; especially, during the applaudable melody of the “I hope you know that” lines.

High 7.

Snowchild starts with a heartbreaking line about self-harm, portraying how important success was The Weeknd. But then, the rest of the track descends, lyrically, into a slightly overly boastful and vapid listing of the success he did achieve. There are, nonetheless, still some lines that are effective in portraying his heartfelt loneliness and retrospection. This time—instrumentally—the highlight is the submerging, calming, and atmospheric trap beat. Although it feels somewhat empty compared to previous, more effective, approaches to this mood. But this is not to say that the cut isn’t at all likeable.

Low 6.

Escape From LA sees The Weeknd doubt the importance of fame and riches, especially in the face of an unfulfilling relationship. This is all tied into the deep-rooted and idiosyncratic lifestyle of L.A., which explains his homesickness and need for *escape*. Having said this, everything after the bridge and some other lines here and there feel a bit unnecessary and unfitting. All in all, the lyrics of him attempting to connect more deeply with someone but failing to do so go along nicely with the melancholically produced beat, even if it does—personally—bore a bit, especially on the last leg of the cut.

Mid-High 6.

Heartless is the lyrical pinnacle of the superficial lifestyle he’s been previously criticising—but with a twist. Instead of this boastful approach to songwriting leading to a feeling of fulfilment, he equates it with him being *heartless*. This furthers his point of doubt in the romanticised lie of fame, and his need to escape L.A. Musically, this track is a high-energy that goes into a danceable direction, delivering an admirably up-beat moment within the tracklist. This deviation from a R&B ballad format, however, doesn’t stop The Weeknd from delivering a vocal performance that shows off his impressive vocal ability, regardless of the more trap-directed instrumental.

Mid 8.

Faith: Here, the Weeknd heart-achingly opens up about a deep, dejected state of loneliness, something he has been dreading throughout the album. He expresses this as “losing [his] religion”, and turns to drugs in an attempt to avoid the overwhelming feeling he once again feels after losing his high. This relapse leaves him vulnerable to wishful thinking of love for another—as well as for himself when he looks in the mirror. The soundscape here is fitting and interesting, as it alternates between a spacey and ephemeral feel, and an enveloping, hard-hitting re-introduction of an energising beat, adorned (at this point, almost obviously) with a passionate yet soft vocal performance. In turn, the outro changes the sonic perspective entirely, delivering the imagery of city lights with him in the back of a car, paralleled with expansive drones of synths, reverberating vocals, and sirens that really sell the lethargy.

Low-Mid 8.

Blinding Lights picks up where the last cut left off, with the city and car lights blinding The Weeknd, and his loneliness looming over him. It also acts as a painting of him “going through withdrawals”, arguably regarding his drug use. Regardless, he continues to be seduced by the irresistible Vegas lifestyle and continues to express it as a way of coping with the loneliness and longing for connection. The metaphor of being *blinded by the lights* refers to “Sin City’s” nighttime lifestyle, as well as his overwhelming fame. Overall, this goes along strongly with the roomy pads and undeniably memorable synth lead melodies. Compositionally, on the other hand, it feels a tad tamer than previous songs, while performance-wise it’s still quite compelling.

High 7.

In Your Eyes is a song of vulnerability, where he admits to hardening his emotions to avoid a breakup, as he “can’t take a loss”. However, he candidly opens up about this, on top of pointing out the pretension he notices in his partner, saying he can tell the pain they’re trying to hide. Moreover, this track has a moving, disco-influenced synth bassline that boasts great chemistry with the rest of the compositions and The Weeknd’s vocal performance—especially on the chorus. The 80s revival aesthetic is, this time around, carried out in a likeably joyful way, contrasting with the downcast lyrics.

Mid 8.

Save Your Tears seems to be a song about how neglect and emotional distance led to another failed relationship—to his bewilderment, and regardless of his genuine attempt at betterment. He further recognises how it’s his own heartbreak that makes him regrettably cause this unintentional pain. This track is another greatly produced one. The jumpy beat, along with the delicate vocal performance, vocoder tinkering, and catchy chorus make for another solid and danceable song.

Low 8.

Repeat After Me (Interlude) is a desperate attempt from The Weeknd to—hypnotically—convince his previous lover to come back to him and reject their new relationship. It could arguably double as him saying this to himself in order to cope, too. Sonically, it’s hardly an interlude, but rather a full-length song, exploring spacious synth compositions to parallel The Weeknd’s mental state. The denial and hurt he feels is further complemented by copious amounts of reverb effects and a dreamy R&B feel which is enveloping, though slightly one-dimensional.

Mid 7.

After Hours acts as a grand, and almost final admission of The Weeknd’s tendency to let down his partners, and his habit of attempting to fight this regret by turning to drugs, hedonism, and his lavish lifestyle. This is the point in the record where he is pleading for connection and love the most, seemingly one final time before he *bleeds out* in defeat. Personally, the combination of a long-winded build-up and outro felt slightly like overkill. Having said this, the intimate vocals and lethargically hurt production make up for it. What’s more, the middle section of the cut turns this emotion into a moving experience with the addition of tight and fitting electronic drums.

High 7.

Until I Bleed Out begins with the overwhelming desire to leave everything behind; especially, his yearning for a love interest, as well as the drugs he uses to numb this longing. Sadly, these overwhelming and ultimately contradicting feelings leave The Weeknd collapsed and bleeding profusely. This acts as an admirable way to—lyrically—conclude the record. Musically, though it begins in a slightly humdrum manner, it eventually evolves into an immersive moment made up of admirable synth work and a production that sells the ample and spacious feel. The multitude of uniquely bright arpeggios, drum machines, and glass-like reverse effects also combine well with a final, velvety vocal performance.

High 7.