Why I Would Sell a Kidney To See The Weeknd in Concert

I got introduced to the weeknd a couple of years ago by an unnamed love affair (lets call him Mr x). We were talking about music preferences (your typical cliche relationship starter) and he mentioned the weeknd. It was still Tuesday, why was he mentioning the weekend now, and why can’t he spell right? To my utter embarrassment, the weeknd was apparently the name of a singer (Abel).

First song Mr x sent me was “high for this” and I remember the first time I listened to Abel. I was hooked. Scratch that, hooked would be the lowest understatement of the century I was in awe. I felt the gates to a music heaven I had never knew existed were opening right before my very own eyes.

At that time you could’ve locked me up in a room with an iPod that only played “high for this” and I would’ve been satisfied. I had the tune on repeat for god knows how long. With each repeat a new meaning, a new sound and a new feeling would suddenly arise. I was addicted, obsessed. After milking every part of the song, Mr x sent over “wicked games”.

Again, it was like I was injecting amaze-music-drugs into my system. I didn’t know exactly what it was. Maybe it was the way he sang, the lyrics (they hit deep) the whole aura of each song. I couldn’t quite pinpoint it really, all I knew was I wanted more.

And that I did.

YouTube. “The weeknd“, type type type. At that time they only had one album out (house of balloons) and it was up on their website for free. I Downloaded the whole EP and my days turned into a hipster drug taking drunk sex obsessed lyric atmosphere. Not only did Mr x become my hero for introducing me to him but i was so content with this music and i finally felt i had a favorite. Favorite genre/singer/lyric/song. It was all really cut-out. It was nice. Abel’s music didn’t need getting used to. He didn’t need radio or billboard hits he was the weeknd, he defined and stood for “the weeknd” no singer description needed, the weeknd was simply the weeknd. And he had just earned himself another groupie. An die hard one.

Mr x and I connected through the music, he would send me lyrics and my brain reacted well with the cliche gesture. But since it was the weeknd I zoned out any cliche association having to do with it. We promised we’d go see him live together sometime, and when he played at Coachella last year we watched it all happen via YouTube and I had to be held back from attempting to break through the screen to be amidst the stoned taken-to-another-level-by-beautiful-Abel vocal crowd.

The only cruel thing about it, was the weeknd– beyond my control- would always be associated to Mr x with or without him it was his music. Good or bad I couldn’t just enjoy high for this without Mr x popping out of nowhere. It was annoying but good music like that always had to come with a price.

Seeing him live would be a dream come true (if I could get passed the happy tears of being there and engulf the endorphins of listening to his music live) I would be the happiest girl in the world no doubt. It’s doable and on top of the bucket list but for now anticipation for “kiss land”, his new album is all I have to hold on to.

(If you’ve just read this, haven’t heard of the weeknd yet and your curiosity hasn’t even sparked to go check him out i don’t really know what you’re doing. i’m telling you now, please do! Click play! And you will be forever grateful to having clicked on this scoop empire link and read this. Trust)