Why The Weeknd Out of Time is Still the Best Thing He’s Ever Done

Why The Weeknd Out of Time is Still the Best Thing He’s Ever Done

It’s about three minutes into Dawn FM when the radio static clears, and you hear that shimmering, city-pop synth line. You know the one. It feels like 1982 in Tokyo, but it’s actually Abel Tesfaye doing what he does best: breaking his own heart in high definition. The Weeknd Out of Time isn’t just a highlight on a concept album; it’s a masterclass in how to use nostalgia without being a slave to it.

People love to talk about Blinding Lights. I get it. It’s the biggest song in the history of the universe or something close to it. But "Out of Time" hits different. It’s vulnerable. It’s smooth. It’s got that weirdly comforting Jim Carrey narration at the end that makes you feel like you’re stuck in a purgatory waiting room with a very polite host.

Honestly, the track is a paradox. It sounds like a warm hug, but if you actually listen to the lyrics, it’s a frantic apology for being a "mess." Typical Abel, right?

The Tomoko Aran Connection

If you think that melody sounds familiar, you aren’t crazy. It’s not just "inspired" by the 80s; it literally is the 80s. The backbone of The Weeknd Out of Time is a heavy sample of "Midnight Pretenders" by Tomoko Aran.

Released in 1983, "Midnight Pretenders" is a staple of the Japanese City Pop genre. For years, vinyl collectors and YouTube algorithm addicts have been obsessed with this specific sound—glitzy, melancholic, and expensive-sounding. By sampling it so cleanly, Abel didn’t just make a hit; he bridged a gap between Western R&B and Eastern synth-pop that most artists wouldn't touch.

Max Martin and Oscar Holter, the production wizards behind the track, kept the arrangement surprisingly sparse. They let the original sample breathe. They didn't over-process the vocals. They let Abel’s falsetto sit right on top of that Yamaha DX7-style bassline. It’s precise.

Why the Music Video Actually Matters

You’ve probably seen the video. It features HoYeon Jung—the breakout star from Squid Game—and it’s basically a karaoke date from hell. Or heaven. It depends on how you look at it.

They’re running through a hotel, singing into a portable karaoke machine, looking genuinely happy. It’s a rare sight for The Weeknd. Usually, he’s bleeding or being chased by a cult. But here? He’s smiling. Then, of course, the "out of time" metaphor kicks in literally.

The transition at the end of the video is jarring. Jim Carrey’s voice comes in as an older version of Abel (played by a prosthetic-heavy double) looks in the mirror. It links the song to the broader narrative of Dawn FM—the idea that you’re in a traffic jam at the end of your life, listening to 103.5 Dawn FM as you transition into the afterworld.

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The video reinforces the song’s core message: you can have all the fun in the world, but if you don't fix your "trauma" (Abel's favorite word), you’re eventually going to run out of chances.

Breaking Down the Lyrics

"The trauma got me distracted."

That’s the opening line of the second verse. It’s blunt. It’s not poetic, and it doesn't try to be. Most pop stars try to hide their baggage in metaphors. Abel just puts it on the table.

In The Weeknd Out of Time, the narrator is realizing he’s ready to be a "good man," but the person he wants is already gone. She’s moved on. He’s late. He spent too much time in the "After Hours" era being a chaotic wreck, and now that he’s reached the "Dawn," he’s alone.

The bridge is where the song really earns its keep.

"Don't you dare touch that dial / Because like the song says, you are out of time."

That’s Jim Carrey. Having a Hollywood A-lister play a psychedelic radio DJ was a stroke of genius. It adds a layer of surrealism that elevates the track from a standard R&B ballad to a piece of performance art. Carrey’s delivery is soothing but menacing. It’s a reminder that time is the one thing you can't buy more of, no matter how many Platinum records you have.

The Production Magic of Max Martin

We have to talk about Max Martin for a second. The man is a ghost in the machine of modern music. While "Out of Time" feels soulful, it’s mathematically perfect pop.

The way the drums kick in after the intro? It’s timed to give you a dopamine hit. The way the reverb on Abel’s voice expands during the chorus? That’s intentional. It creates a sense of space, making the listener feel like they’re in a large, empty ballroom.

Critics often compare this track to Michael Jackson’s Off The Wall era. It’s an easy comparison to make, especially with Abel’s vocal texture, but "Out of Time" is colder. It’s more clinical. It’s MJ if he was obsessed with David Cronenberg movies.

The Impact on City Pop’s Global Rise

Before The Weeknd Out of Time, City Pop was a niche interest. You’d find it on subreddits or in "lo-fi beats to study to" playlists. After this song dropped, Tomoko Aran’s streaming numbers exploded.

This is the "Weeknd Effect." He has this uncanny ability to take something underground—whether it’s 80s Japanese pop, French electronic music (Daft Punk, Kavinsky), or dark techno—and make it palatable for a 12-year-old in Ohio and a 30-year-old in London.

He didn't just sample a song; he curated a vibe.

What People Get Wrong About the Song

A lot of listeners think this is just a "vibe" song. They play it at dinner parties or in the car because it sounds smooth. But if you actually look at the structure, it’s a very dark piece of writing.

It’s about the consequences of emotional unavailability.

If you've ever been "too late" to apologize to someone you cared about, this song is a gut punch. It’s not a celebration of the 80s; it’s a lament. The "Time" he's out of isn't just minutes on a clock; it's the window of opportunity to be a decent human being.

Why It Stands Out on Dawn FM

Dawn FM is a dense album. It’s got "Gasoline," which sounds like a 1980s New Wave fever dream, and "Less Than Zero," which is basically a stadium rock anthem. In the middle of all that noise, "Out of Time" is the anchor.

It’s the moment where the character of The Weeknd stops running and looks in the mirror. No masks. No bandages. No fake blood. Just a guy who realized he messed up.

Actionable Takeaways for Superfans and Musicians

If you’re a fan or someone interested in the craft behind the music, here is what you can actually learn from the success of this track:

  • Study the Sample: Go listen to "Midnight Pretenders" by Tomoko Aran. Notice what Abel kept and what he changed. It’s a lesson in "less is more." He didn't clutter the track with modern trap drums; he let the original groove do the heavy lifting.
  • The Power of Collaboration: The Weeknd didn't do this alone. He brought in Max Martin for the polish and Jim Carrey for the atmosphere. Surround yourself with people who do things you can't do.
  • Narrative Continuity: Don't just look at the song in isolation. Watch the music videos for "Sacrifice," "Gasoline," and "Out of Time" in order. It tells a complete story about aging, regret, and the afterlife.
  • Check Out the Remixes: If you want a different flavor, find the KAYTRANADA remix. It strips back the pop sheen and gives it a deeper, house-influenced groove that works better in a club setting.
  • Explore the Genre: If the sound of "Out of Time" hooked you, dive into the "Pacific Breeze" compilations. It’s the easiest way to find more of that Japanese City Pop sound that inspired the whole Dawn FM aesthetic.

At the end of the day, "Out of Time" is a reminder that pop music can be incredibly catchy and deeply depressing at the exact same time. It’s the sweet spot Abel has been aiming for his entire career. He finally hit it. Now, go listen to it again, but this time, actually pay attention to the lyrics. It might change how you feel about your own "trauma" distractions.