Dawn FM’s album art features The Weeknd as an older version of himself complete with grey hair, wrinkles, and a pained expression. It’s a 180-degree turn from his After Hours persona that captured the bright lights of fame and reckless hedonism. A concept album that acts as a companion to After Hours, Dawn FM revolves around being trapped in an existential purgatory with nothing but a radio station to keep us company. Narrated by Jim Carrey’s musings as a DJ and parody commercials, the album is The Weeknd’s most ambitious project to date. He’s always loved to play up the themes of the party and its subsequent comedown. If After Hours was the spiral towards self-destruction, Dawn FM is its inevitable end: a journey towards oblivion.
Produced by Oneohtrix Point Never and Max Martin, Dawn FM has a similar concept to OPN’s 2020 album Magic Oneohtrix Point Never. Drawing upon a radio aesthetic referencing Toronto’s Z103.5 station, Dawn FM takes The Weeknd’s signature synth-pop sound and infuses it with city pop, hip hop, EDM, and disco influences. Although the entire album is fairly uniform in its overall sound, the crystalline synths and pulsating drums give plenty of space for the vocals to shine through. The falsettos in his tenor tone sound fantastic against the retro-styled production laid out. It’s a lot more punchy than After Hours with even more refinement in the mixing and glossy overtones. The outro of the extended version of “Take My Breath” with the echoing vocals and groovy bassline fits far better in the album’s context than as a single. The twinkling synths on “Out of Time” combine with the layered chorus as he croons for a second chance. When the songs transition between one another, the seamlessness truly feels like a night drive with the radio on.
Going beyond the somber reflections found on After Hours, The Weeknd’s journey towards death on Dawn FM finds him tortured by jealousy and regret. Behind the failed relationships, loveless sex, and cynicism is a man left empty by his nihilism. Experimenting with deeper, gothic vocals on “Gasoline”, The Weeknd laments a meaningless existence without his vices. “It’s 5 AM, I’m high again/And you can see that I’m in pain/I’ve fallen into emptiness/I want you ’cause we’re both insane.” He’s dancing on the precipice of annhiliation, filled with a cosmic dread. Despite the upbeat production throughout Dawn FM, there’s a gnawing sense of unease in The Weeknd’s lyrics. A man trapped with using relationships as a crutch for his drug abuse, the self-reflection is philosophical yet pitiful. There’s a certain maturity to The Weeknd’s musings compared to his earliest work in Trilogy. Though the hedonistic desires remain, there’s also a yearning for rebirth.
Small details between songs like the monologue on “A Tale By Quincy” about Quincy Jones’s troubled childhood and its effect on his adult relationships draw interesting parallels to Dawn FM’s themes. On the other hand, the two features from Lil Wayne and Tyler The Creator don’t do much for the context of the album. Tyler yelling “You gon sign this prenup” feels kind of forced and his feature is phoned-in at best. What’s more, with the 80s throwback sound being done to death, some of the songs start to bleed together in its runtime. Thankfully, The Weeknd’s charisma carries much of the performance here, and even at the lowest points, his persona remains compelling. He plays the anti-hero role perfectly and despite the occasional weak features, the album is the most cohesive in his discography. It might not reach the highs of After Hours but Dawn FM is a surprisingly tight album that continues to prove why The Weeknd is the most consistent pop star today.
Must Listens: Out of Time, Sacrifice, Less Than Zero
