by Kenny Butler

Frank Ocean has been drawing some attention as of late, and whether it’s good or bad has yet to be decided. Aside from being a member of Odd Future, one of the loudest collectives in music today, he’s also sparked thousands of internet conversations after a post on his Tumblr page regarding his sexuality. Aside from that, the 24-year-old New Orleans native has gathered a cult-like following by making a name for himself with some of the most compelling R&B music currently in rotation. After recently dropping his debut album Channel Orange, Ocean is proving that he can be just as commercially successful as any other artist in his genre, without gimmick dance moves or Kidz Bop remixes of his singles. Instead, he’s been turning heads with Channel Orange‘s superior songwriting that’s yards ahead of his peers.

The concept behind Channel Orange is simple: each song is a show, with short commercials, which in this case are interludes between a few of the songs, hence the ‘channel’ part of the title. The interludes on their own don’t hold much value, but listening from start to finish effectively ties together the songs’ themes. After the album hits its mid-way point, the interludes take a back seat, letting the rest of the music drive home until the end.

With Channel Orange, Ocean touches on several key themes throughout the project, which runs slightly over an hour. He reminisces on past love, ponders about teenage lust, examines the highs and lows of growing up wealthy, discusses drug use affecting relationships, and touches on addiction, all before the album’s even halfway done. Although these are not completely new subjects to music, Ocean touches on them in original and interesting perspectives. One of the strengths of Channel Orange is Ocean’s ability as a songwriter and lyricist. Alexis Petridis of The Guardian describes the songs as “compelling, unjudgmental portraits of dark subjects. They’re packed with affecting detail.” Ocean’s attention to detail is what makes a lot of Channel Orange so good. Ocean describes selling drugs in the song “Lost,” and prostitution in “Pyramids,” in a way that gives emotion to the characters, making their actions seem justifiable, and you almost feel bad for them. Ocean’s few guest features on the album follow the leader just as well when it comes to lyricism. Ocean’s Odd Future partner Earl Sweatshirt raps on “Super Rich Kids,” delivering a short verse of multi-syllabic rhymes that almost makes you break the replay button. Andre 3000 also apears on the song “Pink Matter,” rapping a low-key verse about love and intimacy in a unique way that he’s become known for. Ocean’s penchant for songwriting is most evident on “Pyramids,” the most praised song leading up to the album’s release. The almost 10-minute long single starts off as a story about Cleopatra’s love affairs, goes through a sultry, techno-like bridge, and then turns into a sensual first person narrative of a pimp dealing with having feelings for his best worker. The impressive part is that Ocean makes it make perfect sense, using enough detail and imagery that it feels like a movie playing in the listener’s head.

IfChannel Orangewas actually a channel, then “Bad Religion” would be played during primetime. The lyrically emotional diamond of the album, Ocean pours his heart out in the backseat of a taxi, questioning his own religion for the sake of love, at the same time unsure whether that unrequited love is good or bad for him, creating an instant classic to go on his rapidly building resume. It’s also the only time Ocean directly references his bisexuality. Over the organs, Ocean cries: “This unrequited love, to me it’s nothing but a one-man cult… I could never make him love me.”

One of the very few shortcomings on Channel Orange is the production. While lyrically better than ever, the instrumentation is a half-step backwards from Ocean’s previous work, Nostalgia, Ultra. The production on Channel Orange is more calm and cohesive, and everything fits together smoothly. Channel Ultra isn’t as varied and risk taking as Nostalgia, Ultra, the former being more of a cool ride down the freeway, while the latter speeds through stop signs, while still looking over its shoulder with caution. It would be nice to see Ocean with the same pace as some of his earlier work, such as “Swim Good” and “Novacane,” but it’s understandable that he would take a more mature, insightful approach on Channel Orange.

Channel Orange ends with the controversial “Forrest Gump,” the song which (along with “Bad Religion,” to a lesser extent), raised questions that caused Ocean to release his highly talked about Tumblr post to his fans. In the song, he sings to the lead character from the 1994 film from the perspective of Jenny, Gump’s love interest, about romantic thoughts and unrequited love, using a confusing choice of pronouns in the process. TheChannel then goes into one last commercial, and then the seventeen track album comes to an end.

Regardless of his sexuality, or whatever controversy he and the rest of Odd Future get themselves into, Christopher Francis Ocean has quickly become a recognized sound in music, and one of the few truly original sounds left. IfChannel Orangeis an indication, the “Frank Ocean show” will be on television for years to come.

Works Cited

Ocean, Frank. Channel Orange. Def Jam, 2012. CD.

Petridis, Alexis. “Frank Ocean: Channel Orange– review.” The Guardian. 11 July, 2012: n. page. Web. 9 September, 2012.