Flush It Friday: Used To Live A Blonded Life
Celebrating 10 years of Frank Ocean‘s generational, career defining LP, Blonde
As discussed in a previous FiF, 2016 was a landmark year for music, both popular and niche, much like 1969, 1973, and 1984 before it. One record that year, more than any other, has defined my generation in a way we can still feel in much of the zeitgeist of popular music, informing work from artists like Blood Orange, Steve Lacey, Daniel Caesar, Tyler, The Creator, and countless others. The uncompromising and flawless second album from Frank Ocean, titled Blonde, is a dreamy and powerful display of R&B, Art Pop, Soul, and vulnerability that lesser artists would be mortified to approach. Through the intricate and lush instrumentals, Ocean weaves tales of love and loss, accented by explorations of sexuality, gender, and the world surrounding him while he navigates the pangs of guilt and bittersweet sorrow.
It’s tough to summarize an hour-long record full of detailed, lush production and mature, dense themes of commitment and passion within just a couple hundred words, but I feel that no other album has resonated with Gen Z’s struggles through adolescence and identity and that’s something worth celebrating 10 years later. Few songs are as heart-crushingly beautiful as “White Ferrari,” “Self Control,” “Pink + White,” and “Close to You” period, making up highlights on a record that never lets up. So much of the record carries with it tear-jerking synth harmonies, sharp songwriting, immense levels of detail, and emotionally evocative vignettes of everything that makes love as painful as it is, while also exploring the beauty and necessity of it.
There’s a strange level of dissonance between how a younger generation (the one I exist in) continues to perpetuate a strict dogma to patriarchal hetero-normative expectations and that same generation’s unwavering love for Frank Ocean as an artist—someone whose greatest work deeply explores the spaces outside of that expectation. It brings serious weight to his impassioned declarations of not being able to relate to his peers on “Seigfried,” where he mourns a relation that never was and sarcastically declares that he should “…settle [down], two kids and a swimming pool.” These explorations of where Ocean fits into a society not built for him (taken in with the ever-present reality of systemic racism) fit in with the the record’s thematic scope, finding Ocean trying to balance these realizations about himself and the world around him with unrequited love, self-control, temptation, and his very own mortality. It’s a multifaceted story told out of order and plays out like an extended lucid dream or a vivid, colorful acid trip where you reach a deeper understanding of everything around you, fully enveloping you in the duality of Frank Ocean’s true self.
For all these reasons, I find Blonde to be a record like no other; it’s deep and rich (both in terms of music, lyrics, and themes) in a way that few records from the 2010s can match. I often see music fans clamor for more music from Frank, but I find that to be frustrating; from recent live performances and the like, it’s clear that Frank’s time away from the spotlight is what he needs. The very least we can do for the man who gave us such art, the kind that has carried us through a decade of life that’s only gotten more confusing, is give him back space to live the life he needs to live. So, here’s to you, Frank Ocean:
“Wishing you godspeed, glory…”
I’m also wishing godspeed to the wonderful readers and writers of the porcelain throne. Let’s take a look at what the blog has been up to this week.
The Podcasters rip into the disrespectful defiling of “Jolene” on the new Toilet Radio episode:
Kindly grandma Faith works hard at the T-Shirt quilt factory for Diary of Doom:
Joaquin Stick premieres a single from Coal & Crayon with nothing in terms of Misgivings:
My Dying Bride is what my fiancée is gonna call me after I break my bones attempting a kickflip on this stupid-ass skateboard. Thanks for the heads up, 365 Days of Horror.
The new Chat Pile full-length is great, but is it a suitable substitute for laughing gas?:
That’s it from me, you blonded beauties. GBU below!!!!
