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“Nights,” one of the few songs that could be in conversations for radio play, features Frank leaping from hi-hats and guitar licks. The keys of “Solo” aren’t far removed from an Easter Sunday organ while “Pretty Sweet” alternates between a frantic pace and notes from a children’s choir. “Nikes” switches tempo at least three times, constantly keeping your ear engaged. Ocean uses subtlety to diss his former lover on “Self Control,” wishing that the couple “grew up on the same advice” and tells his girl “Keep a place for me, for me/I’ll sleep between y’all, it’s nothing.” He laments that “we’ll never be those kids again” on “Ivy” while casting an eye toward injustice on “Nikes” – “RIP Trayvon, that n***a look just like me.”īut in most cases, the soundscapes of Blonde tell a better story than the actual lyrics. In the four years since we last hung out with Frank, he’s become much more guarded and cynical about love and life. And when he does, he makes you work for it. It’s not often than Frank lets us into his world. Instead of 17 individual tracks, Blonde almost feels like one 60-minute long song – one that challenges the listener to decode its intricacies.
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Most tracks play off each other instead of shining on their own, with the stripped down production meshing Ocean’s concepts into one big narrative. But there are scant few standout tracks – no “Pyramids,” no “Thinking About You” – that you’ll rush to on subsequent listens. Sonically, it syncs up with its predecessor, filled with the same contemplative, moody production that has become Frank’s trademark.
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If you know Frank Ocean, you know his story – a 2012 debut album that has become a critical darling, four years of follow-up release dates that have moved around more than Jamie Foxx’s hairline, and a bizarre visual album that felt more like a collection of unfinished demos that a fully-formed LP.Īfter an agonizing wait, Boys Don’t Cry Blonde has finally arrived – just don’t expect a carbon copy of Ocean’s renowned Channel Orange. That return was outdone a couple of months later when Maxwell rebounded from milk-box status to drop one of the best albums of the year.īut both those returns have been overshadowed by the re-emergence of the rarest Pokemon of them all. 2016 has become the year of the improbable comeback.īack in the spring, I was ecstatic to see Tweet return to form after a 10-year hibernation.