Frank Ocean Goes Blonde

Frank Ocean left fans in limbo for four long years after his masterful 2012 release Channel Orange. The road to the Long Beach singer’s follow-up was reportedly littered with missed deadlines and broken promises, causing a chorus of finger drumming. Would one of pop’s most important voices ever return?

It won’t surprise devotees, then, that the first track off Blonde extended the wait.

The warbled, slo-mo bassline of opener “Nikes” employs minimalistic synth chords pierced by a pitch-raised voice that’s then set against a syrupy, slow-n-low stream of consciousness from Ocean. Three minutes in, the singer’s warm tenor breaks through over a picked acoustic guitar, his demure delivery prompting a collective exhale before continuing on a fragmented vocal trip as the beat kicks back.

Blonde, following the cue of its introductory track, employs subdued vox and stark arrangements befitting bedroom recordings. Over little more than digitized organs, Ocean croons in an almost freestyle fashion on “Solo,” his signature roll collapsing into spoken word segments before swelling back into a decadence that’s only truly resolved on the fast-spit lines from Andre 3000 in “Solo (Reprise).”

Similarly, the impressive vocal work of “White Ferrari” folds into the background, letting static verses, Eighties-style synth, and click percussion build the track.

Still, Blonde carries on some hallmarks of Channel Orange. Airy, distorted guitar chords on “Ivy” recall the sun-kissed pop that the debut leaned on between bangers. Ocean takes his penchant for California chill one step further on new tracks such as “Skyline To,” which follows a climbing electric jazz guitar line over alternating free-form R&B vocals and faux rap verses.

Even “Pink + White,” which flies the closest to Ocean’s original radio-ready aesthetic, counts the intoxicating bassline as its most lavish element, joined by simplistic, ringing piano chords. The warm, jangly guitar of “Nights,” layered with bell-like pops, flattens into a glitchy rhythmic groove over which Ocean’s vocals provide the melody. It blooms again with staccato electric guitar, then abruptly shifts into a kind of end-interlude that would sound more comfortable on a rap album.

Ultimately, Ocean proves once again that diverse musical inclinations can pull together into a rich, complex album, even if Blonde rarely resembles its predecessor. He masters the art of shape-shifting, while leaving absolutely no doubt that any direction he decides to take in the future, he’ll do with absolute aplomb.