Sound and sociology: The art of storytelling pt. 2

In this second installment of my three-part miniseries, I will be going over one of the most transformative artists in the R&B space from the past 10 years: Frank Ocean

The album cover for Frank Ocean's second studio album, "Blonde." Courtesy of Frank Ocean.

Frank Ocean is one of the most mysterious figures to exist in the modern mainstream R&B scene. Ocean has solidified himself as one of the greatest musicians ever by creating an unforgettable sonic experience that has guided many teenagers and young adults through their journey to adulthood.

With a form of storytelling that can be just as cryptic as the artist himself, Ocean is the master at giving the audience crumbs. I remember hearing somewhere that Ocean’s songs are similar to Quentin Tarantino films.

Tarantino’s style of directing  sneaks in small portions of lore and world-building that serves to make the world of his movies bigger — and Ocean’s music is no different.

While a few of his songs are a lot more literal when it comes to their storytelling — “American Wedding”, “Super Rich Kids” and his verse on Tyler the Creator’s “She” —  he doesn’t often indulge in the standard play-by-play lyric delivery. Instead, he plants seeds of the plot to let the listener fill in the gaps.

Ocean released Nostalgia, Ultra — his first project — on his Tumblr page on February 16, 2011. The mixtape jetted Frank into superstardom. He began to be noticed by the likes of Jay-Z, Beyonce and Kanye West for features, and more importantly the prominent label, Def Jam.

With 14 tracks, “Nostalgia, Ultra” runs a little under 45 minutes long. It is packed with good examples of the style of storytelling that inspired me to write about Ocean's music.

I have been going back and forth for the longest time between discussing “Novacane” and “American Wedding,” but I want to go with the song that has been resonating with me the most lately, and that is “Swim Good.”

“Swim Good” is the 10th track on the album and discusses the tumultuous feelings of despair and acceptance that come after heartbreak. Not only do I think the lyrics perfectly capture that agonizing feeling of leaving a long-term relationship , but the instrumentation brings to life both the dread of the unknown and the hopefulness of what’s to come.

My personal favorite lines are the opening bars where Ocean says, “That’s a pretty big trunk on my Lincoln Town Car, ain’t it? Big enough to take these broken hearts and put ‘em in it. Now I’m drivin’ ‘round on the boulevard, trunk bleedin’. And everytime the cops pull me over, they don’t ever see them.”

Cars themselves are a recurring theme throughout Ocean’s discography. In this specific instance he’s using that theme to measure the amount of time’s he’s had his heart broken. The cops pulling him over can also be read as a metaphor for all of the people that fail to recognize his emotionally distraught state.

I also want to mention the correlation between the pre-chorus — “I got this black suit on, roaming around like I’m ready for a funeral” — and compare that to the organ melody in the backdrop of the song.

Organs are often associated with death given their common uses in funeral services, and that specific musical choice is just another way that Ocean’s lyricism and instrumentation choices both serve to paint a vivid picture of his imagination.

While the logical next steps would be to discuss the albums “Channel Orange” and then “Blonde”, I only have space to discuss two of his albums in this article.

While I would have loved to dive in-depth into my favorite song from “Channel Orange” — “Pyramids” — the goal of this article is to emphasize Ocean’s specific style of minimalistic and cryptic storytelling.

“Channel Orange” has many songs that are more vivid and literal with its storytelling, whereas "Blonde" had stumped many people upon its initial release due to the obscurity of the topics being discussed.

All three of his albums exemplify different aspects of his writing, but “Blonde” perfectly embodies the mysticism that has always surrounded Ocean throughout his career.

There are so many songs to choose from “Blonde” that could showcase exactly what I want to highlight about Ocean’s specific style of storytelling, but I think none of them hit me nearly as hard as “Seigfreid” does everytime I listen to it.

“Seigfreid” is the 15th track on the album and juggles a multitude of topics from depression, existentialism, failed relationships, to the sobering reality of growing up. It’s a somber, almost melancholic song that serves as the emotional low point for the entire project.

The lines that always stand out to me are “I can’t relate to my peers. I’d rather live outside. I’d rather chip my pride than lose my mind out here. Maybe I’m a fool. Maybe I should move, and settle. Two kids and a swimming pool. I’m not brave.”

He expands on this outlook more in the second verse, painting a vivid image of his dissatisfaction with fitting the status quo. Despite societal expectations of settling down and having a “nuclear family” type lifestyle, he detests the idea outright and proclaims that he’d rather stand apart from his peers than conform to a lifestyle that was never meant for him.

It’s an inner conflict that so many people have, including myself. Now more than ever, I have been wondering if all of my choices until now have been the right decisions, and the uncertainty of it all is nerve-wracking. Listening to “Seigfreid” with that thought in the back of my head brings me to tears nearly every time.

The third verse opens up with: “Speaking of Nirvana, it was there. Rare as the feathers on my dash from a phoenix. There with my crooked teeth and companion sleeping.”

I can almost feel the yearning that accompanies those words; the feeling of bliss that comes with true love and sharing mundane moments with someone you care about.

Ocean reminisces on the romance that he once shared with his lover with the lines “eat some shrooms, maybe have a good cry about you” alluding to the drug usage he resorts to as a means of coping with the failed relationship.

As I’ve gotten older, Ocean’s music has begun to resonate with me in ways I didn’t even think were possible. The feelings of loss, heartache and yearning that he invokes with his lyrics never fail to send chills down my spine and bring tears to my eyes.

Ocean’s unique style of lyricism and knack for creating such clear and vivid imagery, have solidified his position as one of the most transformative artists in both the hip-hop and R&B genres.