The sweeping climax of the album comes at the halfway mark with “Nights”-a shapeshifting anthem that reminds boundless classic rock suites like Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” or the Beatles’ “A Day in the Life,” which rejects traditional song structure to follow an unhinged trajectory of pure inspiration. It’s complete with an even-better guest verse from André 3000 that dizzied hip hop purists of all generations-and lyrically- Blonde makes Ocean a formidable opponent to even Mr. The production as a whole is also unprecedented-take for instance, the haunting industrial drones and blasts of “Pretty Sweet,” the likes of which an R&B star has never seemed to have adapted before. If Channel Orange proved Ocean a talented singer, Blonde proves him a legendary one.Īnd the vocals aren’t the only aspect of Blonde where Ocean outshines his debut, as “Pink + White,” “Solo,” and “Self Control,” seal his ability to change lives as a songwriter before the album’s second half even starts. “Ivy” ends with a chaotic overlap of Ocean at an even higher third octave, summoning the flamboyant screeches of Prince. In the song’s second chorus, he tenderly leaps an octave to reach a vocal plateau unmatched by any Frank Ocean recording of the past, even including his preceding bonus album Endless. “I thought that I was dreaming when you said you love me,” he cries out over a lone guitar-and-bass motif. And in this era so palpably starved for meaning and purpose, it’s no wonder after hearing Blonde why we so desperately longed to hear his voice again.īut if “Nikes” was too cerebral for the common listener, cue “Ivy,” and we are suddenly cascading through Ocean’s pure, distilled ecstasy. With whimsy and a tinge of warranted arrogance, he repeats phrases like “We’ll let you guys prophesy, we gon’ see the future first,” and “I’ll mean something to you.” See, from his Playstation 1 samples to his Dragon Ball Z innuendos, Frank Ocean has always been a premiere icon for this millennial generation to genuinely relate to. Later, for the bridge and final verse, Ocean’s organic voice can finally be heard, as if to portray his escape from the throes of conformity to reach his true purpose at last. In the song’s official video that was released alongside the album, Ocean slouches against a lonely nightscape of exquisite race cars, disaffected, perhaps to communicate that he has been given the lavish life that society hails as its pinnacle, yet remains unfulfilled. In this song, Nikes are not a trophy like in the lyrics of Ocean’s contemporaries, but rather a symbol of today’s meaningless material culture. This is presumably part of the Yeezus-esque technique of intentionally contorting a piece of aesthetic perfection in favor of thought-provoking experimentation, like sonic cubism. Frank Ocean’s voice is disguised in an unsettling high-pitch effect that taunts the fans’ thirst to hear his trademark croon even further. Let’s also remember that with a debut as beloved as his, and an Internet hater culture that makes a sophomore slump nearly inevitable, Ocean faced the immeasurable pressure of millions of fans all wondering the same thing: Would the music and message of Blonde be everything we’d come to expect this time around? But after years of excruciating suspense, our only hope was to press play, and what we heard was the exact emotional, esoteric masterpiece we’d been yearning to hear since Channel Orange. On Blonde, Frank Ocean fearlessly balances avant-garde themes and aesthetics with cathartic pop bliss, the way any classic artist would hope to.Īnd so it begins with “Nikes,” a song title that baits as a sell-out pop radio single, and delivers the polar opposite. Kendrick’s concept album pitched a silent war with the status quo of meaningless materialism in popular music, leaving Ocean on thin ice as we gazed at the final track list with an opening song called “Nikes” and another named “White Ferrari” further down. A lot has happened in the realm of black culture since Ocean’s four-year disappearance, from the dawn of the Black Lives Matter movement to Kendrick Lamar’s paradigm-shattering racial commentary on To Pimp A Butterfly. On Blonde, Frank Ocean fearlessly balances avant-garde themes and aesthetics with cathartic pop blissįor a minute there, we thought the day might never come, but on that sunny Saturday afternoon, the second studio album by Frank Ocean was finally out.
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