Released: 2016 • Features: Daft Punk
Aight, let’s break it down. “Starboy” by The Weeknd, with that electronic groove from Daft Punk, this joint is a glossy celebration and a flex of success and excess. But underneath that glitzy exterior, we got a narrative of a dude who’s conquered his demons, transformed his pain into game, and ascended to a level of fame that’s got both his main and side pieces ‘out of your league.’ It’s about the transformation from underdog to top dog, but with a lens focused on the material wealth and luxurious lifestyle that comes with being a ‘motherfucking starboy.’
Right off the bat, The Weeknd kicks the door in, aiming to sour your vibe with his come-up: ‘P1 cleaner than your church shoes, ah’ – that’s a reference to the McLaren P1, a hypercar clean enough to make your Sunday best look dusty. He tosses around a ‘Milli’ point two—over a million bucks—like it’s pocket change, just to show you he’s on another level. When he says ‘None of these toys on lease too,’ he’s staking the claim that all his whips are bought, not rented, which in the hip-hop game is akin to having real street cred — ownership over fronting.
That ‘House so empty, need a centerpiece’ bit? He’s using the image of an opulent, yet vacant crib that’s so large it’s hollow without a flashy core—like a 20-rack, aka $20,000, table cut from ebony. It’s a metaphor for his life; he can afford all the trimmings, but there’s a void that maybe these pleasures can’t fill.
Shifting gears, The Weeknd addresses the haters and the competition: ‘You talking money, need a hearing aid’ is a slick way of saying if you ain’t speaking his language of wealth, you’re not even on his radar. And ‘I don’t really listen’ to the competition because he’s gliding through life in his ‘blue Mulsanne,’ vibing to New Edition—classic R&B that’s smooth as the ride itself.
The hook is a self-affirming shout: ‘Look what you’ve done—I’m a motherfucking starboy.’ It’s both a nod to his own success and a jab to those who doubted him, suggesting that their skepticism or challenges only fueled his rise to become a ‘starboy,’ a term that flaunts his celebrity status and success.
In verse two, he flexes even harder. Reference to ‘brag Pitt’ is a play on words with actor Brad Pitt, implying that he’s reached movie-star levels of acclaim. His ability to ‘take the year like a bandit’ means he owned it, dominated the scene. And let’s not sleep on the familial flex: ‘Bought mama a crib and a brand new wagon’ displays he’s not just about self-indulgence, he’s giving back to where he came from, keeping it real by making sure his fam is living just as large.
The final verse is where The Weeknd contrasts his newfound celestial status with earthly desires—a ‘Star Trek roof in that Wraith of Khan’—mixing up the fantasies of sci-fi with the real luxury of a Rolls-Royce Wraith. Speed is his new drug, hitting ‘a hundred on the dash’ as a form of spirituality that’s more tangible than traditional prayers. It’s all about worshiping at the altar of horsepower and opulence.
Through ‘Starboy,’ The Weeknd, with that Daft Punk cosmic beat, lays out a tableau of triumph, excess, and the paradox of an empty mansion that needs filling. All in all, it’s a compelling look at how success can shape a man’s world and worldview—a celebration of highs that just might have you looking for what lies beneath.
