Nach Jahren der Spekulation, unzähligen abgelaufenen Deadlines und ein paar Wochen gesteigerter Online-Aktivität hat Frank Ocean nun endlich den sehnlichst erwarteten Nachfolger zum 2012 erschienen Channel Orange veröffentlicht. Das Album heißt Blond und ist hier erhältlich.
Freitagmorgen hatte Ocean über Apple Music bereits das Visual-Album Endless veröffentlicht. Darauf sind Gastkünstler wie Beyoncé, Jamie XX, Kendrick Lamar, Kanye West, Rick Rubin, Tyler, The Creator, Pharrell Williams und Yung Lean vertreten.
Videos by VICE
Kurz vor dem Album-Release hatte Frank Ocean bereits einen brandneuen Song namens “Nikes” mitsamt wunderschönem Musikvideo veröffentlicht. Dabei handelt es sich quasi um einen Track in zwei Teilen—ein Ansatz, mit der Ocean bereits früher schon gespielt hat. Er beginnt mit zwei entgegengesetzten Auto-Tune Vocals. Eine Stimme hoch-, die andere runtergepitcht. “I got two versions, I got two versions”, sagt die tiefe Stimme, während der Song behutsam einsetzt. Kein Wunder, wenn einem hier direkt Oceans letztjähriges Versprechen zum Album in den Sinn kommt, aber dazu gleich mehr.
Der Text von “Nikes” ist halb Grabesrede, halb Klagelied. “Pour one for A$AP / RIP Pimp C / RIP Trayvon, that nigga look just like me”, singt er in der ersten Strophe, während Fotos von A$AP Yams und Martin zu sehen sind—ersteres wird von A$AP Rocky hochgehalten. In der zweiten Strophe ist er dann in seinem Post-Party-Blues angekommen und versucht, sein depressives Selbst auszuhalten: “We’ll let you guys prophesy / We’ll let you guys prophesy / We gon’ see the future first / We’ll let you guys prophesy / We gon’ see the future first / Living so the last night feels like a past life.”
Fast schon flehend adressiert er danach einen Liebhaber: “We’re not in love, but I make love to you / When you’re not here I save some for you / I’m not him but I mean something to you / I mean something to you / I mean something to you / You got a roommate he’ll hear what we do / It’s only awkward if you’re fucking him too.”
Das Video selbst ist eine Abkehr von der schlichten Schwarz-Weiß-Ästhetik, die die letzten Wochen über so ziemlich alles um Frank Ocean herum begleitet hatte. Es wechselt zwischen Szenen, in denen er sich selbst in Brand setzt, VHS-Aufnahmen anderer Menschen und wieder ihm, wie er in einem leeren Theater auftritt. Das Ganze ist wundervoll in Szene gesetzt, mit unglaublicher Sorgfalt zusammengeschnitten und in jeder Sekunde so großartig wie der Song selbst.
Und ja, es scheint tatsächlich “two versions” des Albums zu geben. Die digitale und die physische Kopie unterscheiden sich laut The Fader in der Reihenfolge und der Anzahl der Tracks. “Nikes”, “Facebook Story”, “Self Control”, “Good Guy” und “Close to You” sind auf der Tonträgerversion anscheinend alle nicht vertreten.
Hier ist jedenfalls die digitale Version in voller Länge:
Nach dem Release bedankte sich Ocean über seinen Tumblr auch noch bei allen Fans für ihre Geduld: “Ich hatte die Zeit meines Lebens, das alles zu machen. Danke euch allen. Vor allem denjenigen von euch, die mich daran erinnert haben, dass ich es auch zu Ende bringen muss. Also so ziemlich jeder von euch. Haha. Ich liebe euch.”
In einem weiteren Tumblr-Post erklärte Ocean auch noch die Inspiration hinter seinem neuen Album. Du kannst den Text hier in voller Länge nachlesen:
Two years ago I found an image of a kid with her hands covering her face. A seatbelt reached across her torso, riding up her neck and a mop of blonde hair stayed swept, for the moment, behind her ears. Her eyes seemed clear and calm but not blank, the road behind her seemed the same. I put myself in her seat then I played it all out in my head. The claustrophobia hits as the seatbelt tightens, preventing me from even leaning forward in my seat. the pressing on internal organs. I lean back and forward to release it. Then backwards and forward again. There it is—I got free. How much of my life has happened inside of a car? I wonder if the odds are that I’ll die in one. Knock on wood-grain. Shouldn’t speak like that. We live in cars in some cities, commuting across space either for our livelihood, or devouring fossil fuels for joy. It’s close to as much time as we spend in our beds, more for some. The first time I did shrooms, my manager had to come rescue me from Caltech’s ‘Trip Day.’ As I got into her car, I swear to God the aluminum center console in her Porsche truck looked like it was breathing, like the throat of something. On the freeway, leaving Pasadena, we spoke and I looked away, outside, at the wheels and tires of cars doing that optical illusion thing they do where it looks like they’re spinning backwards, which, according to Google, happens because our brains are assuming something completely wrong and showing it to us. Staring, I was transfixed by all the indicator lights oscillating and throbbing against the wind. We drove thru downtown LA headed west, flying on the same freeways I used to run outta gas on. Welcomed in by the perennial creatures, imperial palm trees and climbing vines living their lives out just off the shoulder. The feeling familiar enhanced, on the 10. I used to ride around in my sinewy crossover SUV, smoke and listen to rough mixes of my old shit before it came out, or whatever someone wanted to play when they hooked up their iPhone to the aux cord. A few years and few daily-drivers later I’m not driving much anymore. It’s been a year since I moved to London, at the time of writing this, and there’s no practical reason to drive in this city. I ordered a GT3 RS and it’ll keep low miles out here but I guess it’s good to have in case of emergency :) Raf Simons once told me it was cliché, my whole car obsession. Maybe it links to a deep subconscious straight boy fantasy. Consciously though, I don’t want straight—a little bent is good. I found it romantic, sometimes, editing this project. The whole time I felt as though I was in the presence of a $16m McLaren F1 armed with a disposable camera. My memories are in these pages, places closeby and long ass-numbing flights away. Cruising the suburbs of Tokyo in RWB Porches. Throwing parties around England and mobbing freeways in four project M3S that I built with some friends. Going to Mississippi and playing in the mud with amphibious quads. Street-casting models at a random kung fu dojo out in Senegal. Commissioning life-size toy boxes for the fuck of it. Shooting a music video for fun with Tyrone Lebon, the genius giant. Taking a break/reconnaissance mission to Tulum, Mexico, enjoying some star visibility for a change. Recording in Tokyo, NYC, Miami, LA, London, Paris. Stopping in Berlin to witness Berghain for myself. Trading jewels and soaking in parables with the many-headed Brandon aka BasedGod in conversation. I wrote a story in the middle—It’s called “Godspeed.” It’s basically a reimagined part of my boyhood. Boys do cry, but I don’t think I shed a tear for a good chunk of my teenage years. It’s surprisingly my favorite part of life so far. Surprising, to me, because the current phase is what I was asking the cosmos for when I was a kid. Maybe that part had its rough stretches too, but in my rearview mirror it’s getting small enough to convince myself it was all good. And really though… It’s still all good.
This is Boys Don’t Cry and Blonde. First times. Worldwide.
**
