If the EP was meant to be a way to revisit “mixtape Abel”, it feels thin, lacking the slippery tension that made those tapes so drawing in the first place. My Dear Melancholy, has cohesion, but it’s a listless, murky sound that never unhinges the way you want it to. Had The Weeknd pushed a little further, it could have made for something more substantial, rather than walking up to the cusp and then backing down.

An album review by David Sackllah, read by Cap Blackard.

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices For information regarding your data privacy, visit acast.com/privacy