Frank Ocean – channel ORANGE
Def Jam, 2012
Our Take: 9.1
Written by Bradley Davis
Before beginning any review, I like to clear the air about the
circumstances under which I am writing. I like to state my experience
with the band or musician in the past, events that have happened or are
currently happening that have thematic significance within the album,
and generally contextualize my particular perspective. With that, I
must make the admission that, before this album, I didn't care for Frank
Ocean.
Nostalgia, Ultra frustrated me with its restraint and failure
to coalesce into an emotionally cohesive whole. This guy is part of Odd
Future, right? Why isn't there more passion here? Why does it sound so
adult-contemporary? Perhaps his affiliations gave me an unfair notion
of what to expect. Fast forward to now, and the exuberant anarchism of
OFWGKTA has worn out its welcome – especially after the rather pitiful
showing, in my opinion, of Tyler's Goblin – so that affiliation doesn't
mean as much as it used to. Two things made me pay attention to this
album: one, the stellar early reviews coming in from just about
everywhere, and two, Frank's infamous blog post revealing his
bisexuality.
As someone with a vested interest in both LGBTQ
issues and hip-hop, the two rarely converge in a positive way. Those
particular crossroads often consist of me trying to convince my friends
and peers that they can't discount the entire genre because a few slurs
get thrown around by certain artists. Instead, we had an artist coming
to terms with his own sexuality, which in turn showered him with praise
from his record label – certainly one of the most prominent and
influential in hip-hop no less – and fellow artists. How often does
that happen? In fact, I think this represents not only a mainstream
acceptance of non-normative sexualities, but, more importantly,
acceptance within an industry and a culture that have steadfastly
maintained the status quo.
Frank's approach to sexuality in
general separates him from the usual discourse of the subject in modern
hip-hop and R&B. He brings a certain sincere and wholly realistic
tenderness, often keeping the pronouns at an anonymous “you” distance.
This is not a work that wallows in genitalia and explicit metaphors.
This is a work that writhes alone in its bed as the sun rises after a
long, drunken, heartbreaking night. This is a work that appreciates
gentle strokes against the cheek, or kisses along the collarbone. All
art springs forth from tragedy, personal disasters like heartbreak,
death, or any of a number of inevitable losses along the road of life,
but channel
ORANGE is different. Pain runs deep throughout this album,
but you can practically see all of the different piles laid out on
Frank's floor as he's unpacking and sorting his emotional baggage.
Musically, the production is slick and modern, but it still ignites
with a raw energy lacking a lot of overproduced pop music these days.
This is probably the best extant argument for the validity of Auto-Tune
as a stylistic tool; Frank's voice is undeniably beautiful and
accomplished, but the occasional digital treatment compliments the dreamy,
electro-inspired beats on tracks like “Pyramids” very well. Much like
Nostalgia, Ultra,
ORANGE shifts around stylistically constantly, but
this album seems to have a more even tone than his previous release.
All of the different genres dipped into here, from funk to stadium rock
to lounge jazz to classic soul, seem filtered through the same sieve,
and all carry the same stain of the pains of unrequited love and the
inherent loneliness of fame.
With this audacious debut, Frank
Ocean turns a page in modern R&B; one that feels simultaneously
forward-thinking and rooted deeply in a musical tradition all but lost
today. Whereas the larger-than-life, rigidly masculine, ferociously
sexual men reigned in the genre in the past, Frank is hopefully opening
the door for the insecure, tender, and fallible. The emotion complexity
of this album gives it a depth and staying power that feels realer and
more authentic than anything else in recent memory. Frank doesn't
front. This is him, stripped down to the blood vessels and muscles.
