“Dawn FM” opens with a quick minute-and-a-half song consisting of a single verse and a line from Jim Carrey. “You are listening to 103.5 Dawn FM,” he says in a hushed excitement. “You’ve been in the dark for way too long. It’s time to walk into the light.”
This is the ethos behind “Dawn FM,” the fifth studio album from Canadian pop superstar The Weeknd, whose last record, “After Hours,” was an exploration into the synth-filled sounds of 80s pop. “Dawn FM” more or less picks up where “After Hours” left off, but switches out the old melancholy flavoring for a much lighter sound. Compared to “After Hours,” tracks on “Dawn FM” are punchy and energizing; if “After Hours” wanted to put you in your feelings, “Dawn FM” wants to pull you back out of them.
“Dawn FM’s” hour-long tracklist is presented as a radio station that doubles as a purgatory, somewhere for souls to reside before transitioning into the afterlife. It’s deejayed by none other than Jim Carrey, who appears a few times in between songs with the same sort of casual style you might expect from a real radio station before wrapping up the album with “Phantom Regret by Jim,” a haunting poem that sees Carrey close out the album alone.
On paper, his inclusion and the idea behind “103.5 Dawn FM” are interesting ideas, but in execution, it feels unfinished, or perhaps just out of place. None of the music in “Dawn FM” feels like it does anything to support this “afterlife radio” idea. “A Tale by Quincy” and “Every Angel is Terrifying,” two interludes/longer skits that appear midway through the album, are fun ways to help flesh out the world, but in the five or so times I’ve fully listened to the album front to back, nothing outside of the music itself feels necessary, and that’s kind of a shame.
It’s easily forgiven, however, because the music of “Dawn FM” is wonderful. Almost every song on the album hits its mark; “Gasoline” switches out The Weeknd’s usually bright falsetto for pitched-down, chant-like vocals that work well to launch you into the album. I can’t hear “Sacrifice’s” snappy bassline without wanting to dance. Last year’s single “Take My Breath” is given an elongated version that teases its introduction for just long enough to make the hook more than satisfying. The second half of the album slows down with the city pop samplings of “Out of Time.” “Best Friends” is probably the simplest song on the album, but its crunching synth is intoxicating, and its floaty transition into “Is There Someone Else?” is gold. “Less Than Zero” is easily the highlight of the whole album.
It’s not all perfect, though. “Don’t Break My Heart” is boring. I love “Here We Go… Again,” but Tyler, The Creator’s quick feature on the track isn’t anything special. And don’t get me started on the Lil Wayne feature on “I Heard You’re Married,” which makes the whole of that song unenjoyable. “A Tale by Quincy” is the album at its darkest and I guess is supposed to set up “Out of Time,” but it feels out of place. “Starry Eyes” is just kind of forgettable.
None of it is enough to detract from the rest of “Dawn FM,” however, and all in all, The Weeknd’s fifth studio album is a gorgeous, almost cinematic adventure through a lighter side of The Weeknd’s creativity. The idea of a third album to round out the “After Hours”/”Dawn FM” trilogy has been teased by The Weeknd already, and if the progression from “After Hours” into “Dawn FM” is a taste of its potential, sign me up. I don’t want to be in the dark any longer.
