Of course, we were going to tear into it and devour it whole. He’s hooked us all with his talent, kept us fascinated by telling us absolutely nothing about himself and his work and then dropped the musical equivalent of an unlocked diary on our laps. In the four year gap between his critically acclaimed debut Channel Orange and second album Blonde, his fans were jumping at shadows, attributing any weird gaps in label releases or appearances by Ocean to an imminent release of new music.
Unlike his contemporaries, he isn’t constantly in the news, nor does he overshare or feud with people on social media. Part of Ocean’s appeal comes from the unknowable, untouchable shroud he has created around himself. Regardless of the change, Frank Ocean pulls us in with beautiful vocals, a style not found anywhere else in the industry, and just enough vulnerability to keep us waiting for more.When Frank Ocean provided vocals on Tyler, the Creator’s She, a weird track about a guy dealing with his new girlfriend’s stalker, I never thought that the owner of those silky-smooth tones would go on to be the undisputed king of avant-garde R&B. If these tracks are representative of Frank Ocean’s direction following his critically acclaimed album “Blonde,” they suggest that Ocean is experimenting with abstract concept songs that lack clear narratives.
This pose is replicated in one of the 17 silhouettes that decorate the bottom of the cover, hinting at the release of an album. The cover for “In My Room” features Ocean sitting on a bed, staring defiantly into the camera. More than anything else, Ocean’s latest releases create even more anticipation for what is to come. After a short but weighty pause, the plea changes to something that feels more like a threat: “You make me violent.” In the outro, he sings “My room, my room with me / I guess I can't state my feelings too soon / I don't know you.” The paradox of someone being in Ocean’s room, an incredibly intimate space, but Ocean being unable or unwilling to take the emotional jump and share his feelings lingers on the closing beats of the song. He croons the line “Quit being violent with me” three times. Ocean’s abstract rapping about his wealth and confidence turn over to more melodic singing, where his armor seems to crack. The song takes a quick turn in lyrics and delivery towards the end. He changes subjects rapidly and seemingly at random, opening with the words, “No sleeper seat, that’s a mattress.” A few lines later he raps, “I’m not fake patient, I don’t fake sick / That kinda coffin don’t need lean,” using the word “coffin” to simultaneously refer to lean, the drug made with cough syrup, and deaths that it is associated with. Frank Ocean enters the track with a long verse that explores fame, wealth, and sex with cleverly written wordplay. The production is clean and spacious, and occasional laser sound effects prevent the beat from getting too repetitive.
Although the simple techno-pop beat doesn’t initially feel like Frank Ocean - most of his discography has mellow beats and instrumentals that are much more full - the change is far from an unwelcome one. The single opens with the repetition of a synth piano melody punctuated with smooth, thumping bass. On the track, he moves away from R&B ballads and soulful lyrics, instead using pop-inspired beats and stream-of-consciousness lyricism.
2, Frank Ocean gives insight into what this turn away from vulnerability looks like. On “In My Room,” a single released on Nov. In spite of Ocean’s avoidance of the public eye, his music is so powerful because it is honest and intimate. From an artist whose albums delve deeply into his upbringing, past relationships, and fears and who shared his unreciprocated first love in an open letter he posted on Tumblr, this is a shocking revelation. In a cover interview with W Magazine, Frank Ocean shared that he is no longer sure if strength and vulnerability are compatible.