It’s been an eternity since 2012’s Channel Orange fell like whole cloth from the R&B heavens; entire careers and administrations have come and gone since. So if you can pretend to ignore the gimmicky way in which Frank Ocean’s sophomore release Blond found its way to the world (and let’s face it, if you were connected to the internet, you couldn’t), you can also appreciate the hugely non-huge artistry in which he continues to trade. Ocean is the master of the anti-hook, the subtle gesture, the buried lyrical treasure—this is an album of mostly beatless soul whose heart nonetheless pumps vividly and loudly throughout its 17 tracks. You won’t find any Kendrick-grade social commentary or Beyoncé-level cinematography here; there’s but a single passing Trayvon reference. But what you will find, in abundance, are beautifully woven paeans to deeply personal pain whose melodies and mourning—the Katrina memories embedded on “Pink & White,” the twilight moves of “Night” and the existentially detached “Seigfried” (Ocean’s master-stroke to date)— will melt you down to tears. “We’ll let you guys prophesy/We’re gon’ see the future first,” he raps/sings on the album’s opener, the materialism critique “Nikes.” I have heard the future, y’all, and its whispered name is Frank Ocean.
—Corey duBrowa
