Inside ‘Starboy’: The Weeknd’s Dark Dance with Fame, Faith, and Futility

Dancing in the Flames and Starboy – Setting the Stage for Self-Destruction

If Dancing in the Flames is a glimpse of Abel Tesfaye’s potential “farewell” to The Weeknd persona, it’s clear he’s not leaving with a graceful exit but by setting the scene ablaze and driving straight through the flames.

His latest work turns heartache and existential dread into an apocalyptic spectacle, but this wasn’t the first time he flirted with destruction.

Starboy set his world on fire long before, deconstructing both his fame and the identity he’d crafted.

Released as the lead single for his third studio album on 25 November 2016, Starboy introduced a new era of sound and character, as Abel posted on Instagram that day: “r.i.p ‘@abelxo,’” marking a significant turn in his artistic journey.

Starboy isn’t just a celebration of stardom; it’s a critique—a volatile look at the high costs of celebrity, symbolised through sleek imagery, neon crosses, and a pet panther.

The track blends the talents of Daft Punk’s futuristic production with The Weeknd’s darker undertones, setting the tone for an album that would push his persona further into the realm of the iconic and the conflicted.

Fame as a “Necessary Evil”: The Duality of Success in Starboy

The Weeknd’s opening lyrics, “Look what you’ve done, I’m a motherfuckin’ starboy,” set a tone of ironic pride.

It’s both a boast and a lament, flaunting the rewards of fame while acknowledging its emptiness.

The “starboy” label itself carries weight: a term used in Jamaican slang for someone cool or respected among their peers, it’s an idealised image he’s assumed but one he can never fully inhabit without sacrifice.

The term’s history even weaves through Jamaican diaspora culture in places like New York, London, and Toronto, popularised further with Mavado’s 2010 hit “Star Bwoy,” a nod to the allure of self-made success within a close-knit community.

Reflecting on the song, The Weeknd shared, “The vibe on Starboy comes from that hip-hop culture of braggadocio, from Wu-Tang and 50 Cent, the kind of music I listened to as a kid. Bragging just sounds good, man. I was a teenager when I saw Scarface, and even though it was unbelievable, it’s kind of cool Tony Montana could survive all those gunshots and not feel them.”

Here, Tesfaye captures the essence of the “starboy” as both an aspiration and a burden—a character who thrives despite (or perhaps because of) the scars fame inflicts.

In Starboy, fame is both his crown and his cage—a force that has elevated him while trapping him in a role that lacks true fulfilment.

By flaunting material symbols of success, from cars to designer pieces, he challenges listeners to see beyond the glamour.

His message questions whether fame is truly rewarding or simply another gilded trap.

The Neon Cross and Shattered Trophies: Rejecting His Old Self in the Music Video

The Starboy music video intensifies this tension, beginning with The Weeknd bound to a chair, facing a masked figure who soon reveals himself to be The Weeknd’s new persona, killing off his former self.

This dramatic self-destruction marks his pivot into a new era.

In a bold sequence, he wields a neon cross—a symbol that can represent faith, rebellion, or both—and uses it to smash trophies and other symbols of his past achievements, a powerful visual of his rejection of the old Abel.

“House so empty, need a centrepiece,” he sings, referring to the hollowness that wealth and success have left behind.

Here, the neon cross becomes more than a prop; it’s a weapon, a beacon of his rebellion against the superficiality of fame.

The Weeknd has transitioned from being a celebrated, enigmatic figure to a self-aware icon grappling with the weight of his own image.

Much like in Dancing in the Flames, this isn’t a clean break; it’s an explosive one, dismantling everything in its path to make room for something darker and more introspective.

The Black Panther: Embracing the “Dark Side” of Self

As the Starboy music video unfolds, we see The Weeknd with a sleek black panther at his side, symbolising both power and mystery.

This choice is significant—the panther embodies his embrace of fame’s dangerous allure and the “dark side” he’s come to accept within himself.

Panthers, often seen as symbols of resilience and inner strength, mirror The Weeknd’s unflinching acceptance of fame’s toll.

Lyrics like “Switch up my style, I take any lane / I switch up my cup, I kill any pain” reflect an artist aware of his vices and his ways of coping with fame’s pressures.

The panther, therefore, is his companion through this journey, a reminder that he’s no longer hiding from his flaws but walking with them.

As the panther later transforms into a black cat by the end of the video, it suggests that his evolution is ongoing—an inner transformation that’s far from over.

Lyrics that Brag and Bite: Fame’s Trap as Seen through Starboy

Throughout Starboy, The Weeknd delivers lines that seem boastful at first, like “Main outta your league too, ah / Side outta your league too, ah.”

But these lyrics aren’t just flexes—they reveal his critique of the way fame distances him from genuine relationships, creating a world where connections feel shallow and temporary.

He hints at the sacrifices and isolation fame enforces, building a life where everyone is kept at arm’s length.

When he calls himself a “motherfuckin’ starboy,” he embodies both his power and the entrapment that comes with it.

He’s fully aware of fame’s trap – glamorous yet isolating, enticing but ultimately hollow.

These brags carry a sharp edge, questioning if these luxuries and labels truly bring fulfilment or if they merely hide a growing sense of emptiness.

Starboy and Dancing in the Flames: A Cultural Commentary on Modern Fame

In Dancing in the Flames, The Weeknd explores the beauty in chaos, blurring the line between pleasure and peril.

Starboy captures a similar duality, portraying fame as both enticing and destructive, an addictive cycle where everything glows but nothing truly satisfies.

Through his character’s evolution, The Weeknd uses Starboy as both a personal reflection and a broader commentary on the dangers of celebrity culture.

It suggests that those at the top often face their loneliest moments, trapped by constant scrutiny and the pressures of perpetual success.

This theme resonates strongly today, where fame is often a façade for hidden struggles.

By depicting fame as both thrilling and hollow, The Weeknd connects with fans who are curious about the reality beneath the glamour.

He invites them to look past the glitz and see the complexities of success—the hidden costs and constant contradictions that come with being a “starboy.”

The Endless Evolution of The Weeknd’s Starboy

With Starboy, The Weeknd doesn’t just evolve as an artist; he brings us along on his journey through fame’s paradoxes and personal transformation.

He’s “killed” his past self, dismantling the accomplishments of his previous persona to embrace something more introspective and conflicted, yet his journey remains unfinished.

Like Dancing in the Flames, Starboy leaves us with questions rather than answers—a portrayal of fame that’s as complex as it is provocative.

In Starboy, we see The Weeknd as an artist both elevated and ensnared by the world he’s created.

Fame has become his identity, but the label “starboy” feels more like a weight than a crown.

This journey—marked by fire, fury, and a relentless quest for depth—leaves fans wondering what, if anything, comes next.

For The Weeknd, the flames aren’t dying down; if anything, they’re just getting started.

The Weeknd Starboy Lyrics

Intro
Ayy

Verse 1
I’m tryna put you in the worst mood, ah
P1 cleaner than your church shoes, ah
Milli point two just to hurt you, ah
All red Lamb’ just to tease you, ah
None of these toys on lease too, ah
Made your whole year in a week too, yah
Main bitch outta your league too, ah
Side bitch outta your league too, ah

Pre-Chorus
House so empty, need a centerpiece
Twenty racks a table, cut from ebony
Cut that ivory into skinny pieces
Then she clean it with her face, man, I love my baby, ah
You talkin’ money, need a hearin’ aid
You talkin’ ’bout me, I don’t see the shade
Switch up my style, I take any lane
I switch up my cup, I kill any pain

Verse 2
Every day, a nigga try to test me, ah
Every day, a nigga try to end me, ah
Pull off in that Roadster SV, ah
Pockets overweight, gettin’ hefty, ah
Comin’ for the king, that’s a far cry, I
I come alive in the fall time, I
The competition, I don’t really listen
I’m in the blue Mulsanne, bumpin’ New Edition

Verse 3
Let a nigga brag Pitt
Legend of the fall, took the year like a bandit
Bought Mama a crib and a brand new wagon
Now she hit the grocery shop lookin’ lavish
Star Trek roof in that Wraith of Khan
Girls get loose when they hear this song
A hundred on the dash get me close to God
We don’t pray for love, we just pray for cars

Chorus
(Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha)
Look what you’ve done
(Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha)
I’m a motherfuckin’ starboy
(Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha)
Look what you’ve done
(Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha)
I’m a motherfuckin’ starboy
(Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha)
Look what you’ve done
(Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha)
I’m a motherfuckin’ starboy
(Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha)
Look what you’ve done
(Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha)
I’m a motherfuckin’ starboy