I don’t get it: Processing Frank Ocean’s Blond
By Neil Mellstrom
I don’t get it.
I just don’t.
It’s just not my cup of tea or whatever something has to be to resonate with me.
And it’d be insulting to pretend I do get it
...right?
This isn’t “my music”. This isn’t “my genre”.
But it’s also another one of those things that rips some people apart while I’m left over here appreciating the guitar tones.
Fans lean on Blonde for emotional stability while I’m left wondering,
“Is that a Stratocaster? It’s gotta be somethin’ with single-coil pickups.”
That was my initial reaction. I was missing the point. Really, at best
…I was vibin’.
But I sat down with it. For hours. I wanted to get it. Just once I wanted to make the inaccessible accessible on my own. Everything else I listen to has passed the test of
“Do I like this immediately? Because I sure don’t have time to sit around and wait to like it.”
But I took that pressure off Blonde… I let it wash over me a few times. Waiting patiently for its reputation to match my reaction.
“I. will. appreciate this. It’s more than nice sounds. It’s more than soothing. It’s more than lo-fi hip hop beats to study to.”
...right?
And I’ll be honest- I had to look up the lyrics. A lot.
“I’m not him but I’ll mean something to you.”
That blew right by me.
But eventually I started to hear something. I had found something to listen for. The lyrics started to mean something- already a rare event for me.
“What could possibly be the connection between shoes and one-night stands in Nikes?”
It’s more than a critique of hook-up culture. That’s overdone. It’s more poignant. It lays out the painfully familiar story of two people failing to connect...the story of people distracted by products, status, sex… and it’s difficult to hear all of that.
I wish I couldn’t hear the vulnerability in Self Control.
The disappointment in Good Guy.
The fury in Pretty Sweet.
They’re all pretty devastating if you give them the time to sneak up on you.
He poses the risk we all fear in reaching out to someone. In showing them who we are. Exposing the sum of your virtues and vices.
And that’s the genius- I think. His pure snapshots of reality.
Sparse context, vivid imagery and the truth.
That’s expression… that’s storytelling.
I know I hear what Ocean says about intimacy in the modern age among the many themes he touches on. All of which result in the anxieties and loneliness we’ve all felt.
And there are parts I don’t get. Whatever “get” means.
For Blonde: saying “I don’t get it” started to sound like a cop out.
An effort to compartmentalize, distinguish and dismiss that which feels unfamiliar. But the warning messages scattered throughout Blonde that I had to unearth- They aren’t unfamiliar. They’re felt almost everyday.
So I’m pretty sure I do get at least part of it… but either way, I’m gonna give it another listen.
