In 2008 Kanye West released 808s & Heartbreak, the prototype for a new genre of rap: introspective and insecure, down-tempo and dissatisfied. It paved the way for Torontonian Abel Tesfaye, better known as The Weeknd, and his free trilogy of mixtapes which concludes with Echoes of Silence.

The album opens with a complete curve-ball: a relatively faithful rendition of ‘Dirty Diana' bolstered by blistering drums and crooning vocals. It’s Tesfaye’s boyband R&B voice that makes the occasionally lecherous lyrics so shocking. During 'XO/The Host' he begs a girl to let him film her when she’s at her best, namely when “you’re filled with regret.” On tracks like the standout ‘Next’ he muses about hedonism and excess like most rappers, but these are cautionary tales told during the sticky morning-after: a disembodied voice walking us powerlessly through his mistakes.

Each part of Tesfaye’s trilogy has a distinctive hue. If the hook-filled House of Balloons felt like a fading sepia Polaroid and the noisy Thursday was acidic, obnoxious Technicolor, then Echoes of Silence is between these contrasts; it manages to be more mainstream than its predecessor while retaining its bile. This is the sound of one mixing with the other: lipstick staining, mascara bleeding, lines blurring.  The album finally fades to black with its stripped-back title track and highlight. “Don’t leave me all behind, don’t you leave my little life”; we’re just not sure whose life he’s referring to anymore.

The Weeknd concludes his ambitious project with a predator praying for forgiveness. Challenging and cathartic, it’s a fitting end to a journey that establishes him as one of the most exciting acts working today.