Frank Ocean’s name will forever be linked to my languid, quiet Gainesville summers and feelings of intense disappointment. With so little to do in this collegiate ghost town, any word of the neo-soul artist’s elusive and highly anticipated second studio album was guaranteed to make my day. Ocean’s acclaimed debut studio album “Channel Orange” was the soundtrack of my waning high-school years and my personal introduction to how alternative rhythm and blues could sound and feel. “Pyramids” constantly streamed out of my car’s stereo, mixing with the sounds of teenage prattle and late nights on the interstate. So when the hype surrounding his next album began to reach a fever pitch, I was undoubtedly invested.
If you haven’t heard anything about this album or fans’ cyclical disappointment with its constant delays, I applaud your ability to shield yourself from all forms of social media. When Ocean first alluded to a joint album production called “Boys Don’t Cry” on his Tumblr with the hashtags “#ISSUE1 #ALBUM3 #JULY2015,” I was filled with childlike optimism. Thirty-one July mornings were spent hoping I’d wake up to a new album, with subsequent disappointment growing each day I didn’t see it. Twitter flooded with crying Michael Jordan memes begging Ocean to drop the album. Reddit users analyzed the website’s code to reveal a hidden collection of “Boys Don’t Cry” merchandise and stoked fans’ hopes that the album’s release was imminent. This cycle repeated when Ocean released a cryptic picture of a library card with the date July 2016 stamped on the bottom.
But I had learned my lesson, and I knew it was too good to be true. Yet another sweltering Gainesville July came and went without the album, reaffirming my musical trust issues. An anonymous source from The New York Times promised an album Aug. 5, a promise that inevitably fell through. It wasn’t until a live stream appeared on that god-forsaken “Boys Don’t Cry” website that I started to put together what might be going on in the reclusive artist’s mind. Stark black-and-white video footage of Ocean coming in and out of a construction zone over the course of 18 days, using a ménage of power tools with hushed instrumentals fading in and out of the background was just outlandish and listless enough to infuriate the Internet. What the hell could he possibly be making? Was this some sort of elaborate troll?
Ocean’s glacial pace and artistic precision quickly became the video’s focal point, transforming the construction zone into a meditation on creative space. In the age of instant gratification and artistic commodification, Ocean forced an immense fan base to be patient and accept that their needs couldn't dictate how and when the album came about. We watched his creative process in real time and were forced to confront how painstakingly measured and slow it moved.
In the end, the “Boys Don’t Cry” we had expected for the last four years was never truly delivered. Ocean released a visual album titled “Endless,” a studio album titled “Blonde” and a publication titled “Boys Don’t Cry” over the course of last week, with each one offering a slightly tweaked version of the same core message. “Blonde” echoes the poetic soul of “Channel Orange” without many of pop’s traditional trappings, as Ocean is stripped down to his piano, serene electronic instrumentals and avant-garde vocal manipulations. It’s everything we needed and nothing we expected.
Some Ocean fans may still grumble at the progression of delays, teasers and false promises that led up to the release of “Blonde,” but it taught a much-needed lesson of respect for the creative process and acceptance of delayed gratification in the digital age. Ocean seemed appreciative in return for our patience when he posted this on his Tumblr: “Thank you all. Especially those of you who never let me forget I had to finish. Which is basically every one of y’all. Haha. Love you.”
Marisa Papenfuss is a UF English senior. Her column appears on Tuesdays.
