His voice rang through, loud and clear.
I heard the first words, and a smile came to my face – suddenly, I was on a beach in my Nikes, wading in the calf-high tide – he was back, and everything was alright again.
Honestly, everything was more than alright again. It was almost as if my mind had instantly opened up. The writer’s block I had been suffering from was gone and my boy problems were a distant memory. All of my worries were out of sight, somewhere far from this cacophonous paradise.
Somewhere far from this Ocean.
—
Blonde, Frank Ocean’s impossibly long-awaited album (released Friday, August 19th), washes over you with ease – it’s a gently flowing current pushing its listeners down a fluid expanse of colored pools, filled with vivid images of sexual escapades and past lives.
Its loudest of moments comprised of its dullest of notes, Blonde signifies a toning back from Ocean’s last release, 2012’s channelORANGE. Simpler melodies and a chilled out flow stand as the major separation between the two contemporary R&B records.
Despite this, Blonde stands as Frank’s testament to the singer/songwriter’s personal and artistic growth over the past four years, something that many fans and critics doubted. His lyrics fully tell his story now, having had four years to revel in his past relationships and explore new ones.
Whereas channelORANGE marked his transition into an openness he had never experienced before (he came out as having previously been in love with another man in a note on his Tumblr page upon its release), Blonde lets listeners get to know and feel a somewhat new Frank – one that has traversed new spaces and positions but still feels familiar; one that is still caught up on the ones that got away and summer days where the sky felt as rosy as his closed off heart.
On the technical side of things, Blonde is static, melancholy, and almost difficult to get through.
But, somehow, it does this in the best possible way.
And it works, well.
Taking a step back from his last album’s grandiose instrumental recordings and heavy bass, Frank made sure to put himself in the primary producer’s seat this time around. He released it independently, leaving out a distinct radio-hit in exchange for a long-form lullaby coursed out over 17 tracks.
Even though the production is grade A and highly experimental, it takes a backseat to the words, allowing lyrical play and guest sampling to do the major work. In some tracks, Frank’s voice even acts as much of the music itself, with distorted autotuning layered on top of crisp, clear vocals throughout the length of the album.
Nearly free of weak points with its ingenuity spread evenly throughout, Blonde offers only one questionable quality: its short, abrasive spoken-word interludes. “Be Yourself” and “Facebook Story,” each under 1 ½ minutes, tell stories through clips of talking from undisclosed identities. Their contents about as profound as a Seventeen magazine thinkpiece, they stand as the only tracks on the “concept” album that break up the actual concept.
Nevertheless, the overall cultural impact of Blonde in the wake of its release has been of undeniable importance. Even though Frank has never truly defined his sexuality, his unapologetic use of same-sex pronouns in talking about both romance and fornication has offered visibility to the virtually non-existent community of non-heterosexual black men in R&B, rap, and hip-hop. By being openly out himself, as well as one of the most inventive and revolutionary artists of his time, he is forcing people to not only acknowledge homosexuality as a viable attribute for black men, but also to accept it as something that needs to be talked about, respected and accepted in a way that has not been done before.
Highlights: Let’s be real here, half of the album could contend for best track. However, this time, Frank’s strongest moments came at his rawest and most emotional. Tracks such as “Ivy,” “Pink + White,” “Self Control,” and “Godspeed” have some of the simplest production, but they will leave you feeling every note and word. This is where the album is finest– where he lets his mind and voice wander over words that you know he wrote straight from his core.
Other highlights include the Andre 3000 verse on “Solo (Reprise)” and the chill anthem “Nights.”
Lowlights: As discussed earlier, interludes “Be Yourself” and “Facebook Story” stand as the shallowest waters of this Ocean.
Eric Weck
Photo Creds: Jacob Holzman