Unless you've managed to keep your distance from the hormonal hotbed that is Tumblr, part of The Weeknd's (or Abel Tesfaye) emergent digital supremacy was down to that micro-blogging site (despite the partial truth that Drake worked as his fellow Candadian's semi-conspitorial A&R). Notes upon notes have appeared by track posts that have trickled onto the site in the past three years, the initial lot coming from the first of a trifecta of releases, House of Balloons (followed by Thursday and Echoes of Silence)

There's something about Tesfaye that attracts the messed up mind of a teenager, at least a 21st century one. Perhaps to do with this unbridled fascination with debauchery. On his first official release, Kiss Land, he sings about sex and drugs for the oversexed and overdosed generation. But it's not a celebratory sing-song, it's imbedded it a sort of deep Bukowskian melancholia. He enjoys appearing slightly fucked up, and people love to hear about fucked up people, they're fascinated by it - they want to find solace in these characters.

Tesfaye's formula is abundantly clear on this record then: taut articulation about things-he-should-probably-go-to-tharapy-for, tied into solid but spacey, sparse R&B-electro that act as a drama inducing foundation for his musings. The question mark hanging over this mysterious project, has never been about his talent because it's plainly clear - it's more about how genuine he is. Is he serious or a rebel without a cause?

"What's a somebody in a nobody town?," he sings on Kiss Land's opener 'Professional', a Depeche Mode influenced track with botchy synths and airy atmosphere acting as an opening segment to the main event: a more potent and strong sound filters through, virtually creating two tracks in one. 'Belong to the World' is almost an admission of his fascination with messed, Jane Margolis characters, "I'm not a fool/I just love that you're dead inside," he sings without a quiver or a hint of guilt. Still, occasionally it's hard to understand he's utilising his poetic license or has… a limited world view. Tracks like 'Pretty' lack the tentative, endearing nature of a song like 'Pussy Is Mine' by Miguel, delving straight into that swaggering hip-hop braggadocio, "When I land, you're mine," supported by these Lolita style, high pitched and teary female vocals littered throughout.

In terms of production, is perhaps a more mature effort than either of his previous mixtapes. There aren't the instant pop thrills, (aside for Drake assisted 'Live For' which sounds like a part II for 'Crew Love') found in the likes of 'Loft Music' or 'The Zone'. Still, the sound is quintessentially 'Weeknd';. Take title track 'Kiss Land', with its large swirling production and sparse drum-hits at the beginning before it descends into this dark, trap sound courtesy of Silky Johnson. The album must be commended for it's ability to stay in a strict sound scape though, and not becoming boring - especially given the length of some of its tracks. It's cohesive, but not too safe or samey.

However, Kiss Land occasionally oversteps the inspired line and into overindulgence. Tesfaye's trapping is his inability to let a song go, and give it it's owns legs. Too many songs over step the five minute mark, despite not saying much different within the songs themselves and over the album itself. Kiss Land is filled with promise, it's inspired and a great example of how R&B can cross many genre boundaries. It's confident, but pretty underwhelming with ideas that aren't quite fully articulated or tactile, leaving the listener in the dark - but not the dark he wants.