Review: Frank Ocean's Magisterial "Blonde"

Much anticipation. Very worth it. Apple calls this album one “we’ll be listening to and talking about for years” —I said, mostly because Frank might leave us with this for the next four years like last time. But in all honesty, Shortly post-Frank’s Grammy performance, we all thought we knew both the what and the when about his next album's release. This style, with these influences, probably around 1.5-2 years, tops. He’s too good; we love him too much. There’s no way he’d neglect us. Now, four years later in July of 2016 very few would dare utter those words. But when August came around, it was as if many of us were calmed with the release of not one, not two, but three (so far!) artistic expressions from Frank Ocean. No longer did we feel the hunger pangs of another groundbreaking album from Frank, clinging to the crumbs of Tumblr posts, covers, cancellation notices, two minute un-finished singles and of course, every project produced since them Lonny days. We had fresh music. Like Moses coming down from the mountain—finally, just about when we all went astray. Though currently streaming exclusive to Apple Music, thus-far, Blond/(e) is clearly (to use Future’s words) “F’n up those… well, chart #’s” (sorry, Commas would’ve been much easier to write). In the last week of August, Ocean debuted as the third largest album release of 2016, only trailing behind Drake and Yoncé. Another crown to boast, besides his first #1 spot on Billboard 200, is Ocean’s five-track appearance on Billboard’s Hot 100 (Nikes, Ivy, Pink & White, Solo and Nights) To top it off, in the first week Blond was illegally downloaded over 750,000 times. So is he killing it or he killing it? All that said, Frank is clearly providing us listeners with a sound we truly desire. Contrasting deep, raspy voice and angelic notes aside, his content yet again is one that delves into the deepest parts of vulnerability: love. Love requited, love past, enduring love and love unconditional. I think it’s safe to say, Frank speaks to something we all want, can demonstrate, hope to possess and desire to give. With that, let’s hop forward to the tracks themselves. Pull up a seat, turn up the bass on your speakers, grab a drink and close your eyes to full enjoy. Cheers, “Blonde” is here at last. "Nikes" I felt similar feelings to that of when I first heard "Watch The Throne," and "No Church in the Wild" came on. Back then I didn't realize Frank would be the first voice, but here I could only expect it. After a few counts, his distorted voice slowly seeps in. He's humorous with his introduction. 'These bishes want nikes--they looking for a check' Desperately wanting rings like Carmelo Anthony. He pulls insight and analogy from everywhere. And he changes his tone to call our attention back, if we've at all lost it. Pimp C. Yams. Trayvon. How different are we? How different is he?

Then switched again; Frank lets his little cousin wild out on the track. Clearly oscillating between not giving a fuck and communicating his convictions subtly, all without losing an inch of being compelling. 3 minutes in, he sheds the voice distortion. It's just Frank. He leans into the anticipation of his listeners, very well. Few words. Space. Resonance. Pondering. Repeat. Shortly followed by humble brags and visceral description. As this track faded out, I wondered, 'who is he speaking of/to?!' Im hooked into wonder of this new album. "Ivy" Clearly, this is the reminiscing track. The homie Woodwiss shared his thoughts with me, reflecting on the beauty in this track. I can't help but agree, finding "Ivy" to be an extension of frank's unnamed love referred to in Nikes. Though here, he speaks with certainty. With confidence, confessing, 'I thought That I was dreaming when you said you loved me; had no time to prepare, I didn't see you coming' If Drake was singing this, we'd fear he had regressed to another ex, but the vibe's quite different with Frank. This is his ode to his forever love, conjuring the groundbreaking moments--when they met. Confided love. And broke it off. Frank speaks of affection that sees appreciation in every historic moment, no matter how heartwrenching. Musically, the track employs a Southern California whammy-guitar vibe. Knowing of Frank's Long Beach hometown & his references of this childhood love, it's not hard to see his intentionality. The same intentionality found on "Sweet Life" off his last project. Another classic. '--Goddamn!' (Swizz voice). So good. "Pink & White" Up on our roof terrace alongside friends, we marveled at the artistry of the Bay Area sky. Stretching across Jack London square, the whole of SF, the Oakland skyline & hills we saw pink & white. The colors danced. The moment we found it fascinating, it changed to keep our attention. It reddened. "Pink & White" explores exuberance unfettered. The orchestral burst beginning the track shuffles us into the backseat of a drop top, alongside the crew, palm trees lining sides of the road. Freedom. Feelings of freedom. 'You showed me love, glory from above' One might mistake this track for Pharrell or Tyler. The two create art to reflect a similar appreciation for space and freedom. Assuming some of their influence, it's also worth mentioning their admiration for the track. "Be Yourself" *sends 'Thanks, mom' text* Swear to god that's the personal vibe of this track. But honestly, I think Frank's going a bit deeper here. Thinking back to Earl's "Doris," where he went in on Sunday, Frank confides, 'All my dreams start getting vivid since I stop smoking pot' Causing me to take particular notice of every mention of getting lit. One is only curious of his many mentions. *Insert tree leaf emoji* "Solo" 'Hand me a towel I'm dirty dancing by myself, gone off tabs' --god, I love this. Frank the mfkn cowboy. I can't be the only one loving this beautiful, country-western style ballad. Vivid imagery, provocative scenes, constant travel and location. Frank spares no lyrical expense pairing story and harmony. He's constantly accompanied by the undertone of a organ, otherwise quite bare ---though never deficient. Beginning with a tone of confidence, Frank flexes the benefits of a life lived solo filled with freedom and 'that act-right' night following night. His commentary hints toward shift in tone, after we hear the mention of a night alone, phone dying, desire unmet, only to be left with a final quote: 'By myself', coupled with a decrescendoing organ. "Skyline To" Disregarding a set tempo or beat, Frank's voice sneaks us into the next track. Jumping lyrics in surprise as he pleases, it feels like a jungle Broadway show-- 'blur!' 'Smoke!' And we're brought up or down or both at 1:45 of an eerie, etherial absence of words only to be met once again, soon after, by the rising layered tones of Frank Ocean. "Self Control" 'Poolside convos about yo' summa' last night (last night!)' As Frank delves into the most revealing track yet, the album finds a crescendo as he harmonizes the words, 'I'll be the boyfriend, in your wet dreams Tonight... You cut your hair but you used to live a blonded life' Clear cutting a word to the album title.

Side note-- I could've cried right then and there at the rawness of Frank's voice. Beyond the revelation laced in our track, we find repetition at 2:35 with transition breaking in. This time, transition possibly reminds us of the feeling of UFO that he felt after visiting our 'blonded' boy. Regardless, we're lulled by Frank's memory of having to leave--of feeling second... "Good Guy" Deeper, we're pulled more deeply into Frank's commentary on affection. Sounding like a brief interlude after a good cry, Frank tells of an encounter with an interest in NYC. The details are so visceral, full of question, rejection, question. Soon after, we hear a most memorable soundbyte on bishes. Impossible to forget. It creates understanding of the heartbreak that made way for this new expression. "Nights Pt. 1" I find it hard not to see this introduction to Nights as anything besides a lament. Lament for his desire to be recognized, for his muse to be recognized. For a past life. For closure in the distance. For a settling. 'Wanna see nirvana but don't wanna die' repeat.' Made at the halfway mark of the album, Frank draws us to wonder what nirvana he's envisioning. And as we ponder, the lyrics scale back, as well as the few riffs and... "Pt. 2" Damn, then that Drake vibe drops in. This that 2011 missions in the Buick, 305 to my City, it's nigga's creepin but not like we creepin' no TCL, 'yes he did shout out the Acura' joint. And nirvana, again, we're reminded. Maybe this halfway point pondering is Frank's signal for a turning point? "Solo Reprise" Andre 3000. Damn, Frank. Thank you. As much as that's sufficient, I do believe it's worth saying more about the wordplay of this genius. I think 3k is just as pensive in this song as Frank is throughout the entirety of the album. Arguably this track is most well known for its bar where Andre calls out the lyrical sin that is ghost writing. Some say it's taking shots at Drake. *sips tea*

(Cee-Lo said its not) Either way, fire feature. Once again destroying our entire frame of reference on the world, cultural trends and causing us to hail him as a great, yet. Maybe the reflection of Frank's turning point in thought? "Pretty Sweet" But chaos ensues.

I was taken aback at first listen. The chaos is intentional and deafening both in headphones & speakers. Whether listening on the gShuttle as I'm heading home to Oakland or at the crib with the liquor poured up, I'm always nervous someone's gonna look at me like, 'wtf are you listening to?' But harmony shortly slips in. Along with a quick pace. "Facebook Story" I'll be honest. First listen through I was like, why? But this is the most convicting track on the album. I think this is the pinnacle of Frank's statement that he made by pulling away from social media. It's not real but it manifests visceral reactions--just as this French DJ made mention in his relationship. Even more, convicting in the story of Frank. "Close to You**" I found myself reminded of Daft Punk on this track. Scratch that. I listened again--Bon Iver. TF was I thinking about Daft Punk. Regardless-- this brief track makes its way as an interesting follow up to Facebook story. My only curiosity is if its brevity reflects the amount of time Frank took to work through the pain of the relationship that is expressed here. "White Ferrari" This 80's synth vibe reminded me of heaven. For the first few moments, it felt like every teen-adolescent moment in the film when the slow dance starts and the friends or the couple that was meant to be finally acknowledge that they don't want this night to end. 'I'll care for you still and I will. Forever. That was my part of the deal. We got so familiar.' As Frank's declaration sinks deeply into our hear, I can't help but find this strip-down inspiring--here's hoping Frank considers making the equivalent of Justin Bieber's "My World Acoustic" when he goes in. His voice is etherial; I surmise the room is completely open, as the echo reverberates if you listen closely. The plucks of the strings are discernable in the background. Rich. And yet, it goes softer. Softer. Softer. Lullabying us as listener as some other harp-like instrument takes over. "Seigfried" And then I wanna cry.

It feels like a black tuxedoed Frank Ocean staggering along a paved roadway. Almost mirage like. Searching. Searching. As soon as his voice comes in, you're not limited to hearing the space, you can feel it.

He's searching. That's what the lyrics tell us. 'Maybe I should... I'm not brave' he confides in us. And at 3:05 the symphony breaks in a bit.

Brave! He breaks in--and he speaks poetically, viscerally in spoken word fashion, reminding us of nirvana. The rush he's searching for. And we're reminded, he's broken. And most of all, none of us are safe from the brokenness he feels that causes him to ponder a trip on shrooms and a good cry. If it can happen to Frank, we inevitably ask ourselves, if it can happen to ___... And it fades. In the dark. Into dark. "Godspeed" And like the phoenix he mentions in his spoken word from "Seigfried," he rises! His spirit rises to an undying love. We're lifted. God--this song feels so fucking good. Undoubtedly, I caught the spirit like the old Baptist church of my father and grandfather. The first two minutes I find myself experiencing something close to the nirvana Frank is searching for and seeking to articulate. And possibly, he found it in a way, without having to die. We're left to wonder but I think we know. We hope. Hope is what we're utterly left with, as the song strips down and Gospel singer, Kim Burrell ushers us out into Frank's final word. "Futura Free" Colossal. Unrestrained. Expressive. He's clearly not censoring his truth on this bare-all track. Every stunt. Every "Fuck it." Every "I can't believe and I don't deserve" is here. Every vulnerable moment recounted in awe & gratitude is here. 'I ain't on your schedule. I ain't have no job since 2007. I feel like Selena. She don't give head no way.' *several more one liners* Silence. ----------------

Goddamn, Frank. Goddamn. Thank you. "This album is so good!" I confidently express to my wife--"Godspeed's" organ resounding in the speakers as we drive back from Yosemite. "I left this album for like a week," I continue, "and come back to be reminded of how it's just so good." It feels like the closing remarks of a film where they have the historic commentary on the individual being made into a tribute. Better yet, it feels like the reunion scene of a film; always. Every track.