Friday 27 July 2012

Frank Ocean - Channel Orange review

Channel Orange is my album of the year so far. Normally I'd be resistant to this level of hype but as far as I can see (hear) it really is that good. As occasionally happens, this is great pop music that is also very popular, being towards the top of the charts in various places in the world and breaking into the UK Top 20 before it had been physically released, breaking UK Records by debuting at No.2.

All reviews of this album are obligated to mention how Ocean "came out" as bisexual in the form of a letter on his Tumblr (included in the CD package) before the album was released, after speculation arose based on a few male pronouns on the album in love songs. I put came out in quotation marks as, typically, he did it in a much more nuanced way then saying "I'm bi". Instead he wrote movingly about how his first (and unrequited) love was a man, starting the letter with the phrase "I'm starting to think we're a lot alike". The fact that all reviews mention this isn't just journalistic gossiping though - the combination of this letter makes the proper opening track (after a brief Playstation sampling interlude) Thinking About You hit like a bomb. This had already been released but appears here with a gorgeous new string arrangement.

A few other tracks were actually enhanced by this revelation - Bad Religion, an organ led torch song and album highlight as previewed on Jimmy Fallon, is a rush hour confessional to a taxi driver drawing parallels between spiritual love and secular sexual love where he protests how he "can never make him love me" simultaneously referencing the homophobia at the heart of organised religion and the unrequited love that to him "is nothing but a one man cult". Similarly, Forrest Gump's admiration of a man "so buff, so strong...running my mind boy" is probably more likely to be about the guy in the letter than a crush on Tom Hanks. Indeed the song's postscript of footsteps walking out of a car, through the rain and into his house, shutting the door echoes the detail in the letter that following Ocean's admission of love the object of his desires left the car they were in and went back inside to his girlfriend.

This album is about more than an artist in a largely homophobic subculture coming out of the closet where no man has (willingly) gone before - even if it wasn't it'd be important but what is most important is how good the other tracks are too. There's the sparkling, Pharrel Neptune produced Sweet Life where the chorus "Why see the world when you got the beach" can serve both as a barbed comment on the rich subject of the song and a summertime singalong that runs through a grainy spoken word recording into the Earl Sweatshirt featuring Stupid Rich Kids which is less ambiguous. Rhythmic piano stabs frame Frank's story of "super rich kids with nothing but fake friends" and Earl's numb scene stealing guest verse.

Then it's back to a curious mix of innocence (the childlike premise of a sky romance) and experience (the character's a dealer) for Pilot Jones flowing into the druggy psych-soul of Crack Rock where the social commentary is even more obvious than it was elsewhere - but the political is still personal, as he refers to the addict's family stopping inviting him to things and not letting him hold infants. Via a monotone final recitation of the title/chorus the track segues into Pyramids - otherwise known as the first track released expressly for the album where I realised this guy was REALLY something special. It's rare I'll use proggy as a compliment but this is a proggy near 10 minute track drawing on both the poppy post dubstep of acts like SBTRKT and Stevie Wonder at his 70s peak. It moves from ancient Egypt to a man watching his stripper girlfriend who "for now let's call Cleopatra" get ready to work at a club called the Pyramid and reminds spellbinding for every second right up to the heartbroken Cortez The Killer fuzz guitar outro.

Lost is a potential hit single, like many other tracks on the album, and the perfect followup to Pyramids, bringing us back to earth. A pleasant guitar interlude (John Mayer playing over the instrumental track to White, Frank's contribution to this years Odd Future Volume Two) links us to Monks, a song about stage diving monks and Ocean and a girl "Who likes to fuck boys in bands" fleeing an army sent by an overprotective father. This song returns to the idea of a sky romance as mentioned in Pilot Jones, and is overshadowed slightly by the aforementioned Bad Religion and the Andre 3000 featuring Pink Matter where Frank's listless crooning is followed by Andre's drowsy scene stealing appearance. A common thread is any rapping on this album is done as if on the verge of falling asleep / having just woke up.

Then the final track, Forrest Gump leading into the final interlude....only for a hidden track to appear. Now it's encouraging that Frank cares this much about album structure - just a shame he included something that has never been a good idea in the existence of CDs. Luckily the Tyler the Creator featuring hidden track is a good one. That little sequencing irritation I have nothing bad to say about the album. It's a piece of art and I can't wait to see what he does next.

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