The only strike Weeknd gets on his report card is his occasionally lacklustre song writing. This mish-mash produces moments of sheer inventive brio. There aren’t any aliens but Lana Del Rey does pop up (no offence Lana!) to wrap her psychedelic croon around the final bars, before the song ends on an extended coda where the refrain is looped and Scooterified for no goddamn reason. This is no truer than on ‘Party Monster’ which sounds like a B-Movie saucer landing at a turf dancing contest. This is basically a space epic put to music. That sci-fi metaphor wasn’t just me fucking about either.
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