The Case for Frank Ocean
*Previously written and reposted here.
On July 10, 2012 Frank Ocean released what would go on to become his critically acclaimed album Channel Orange, subsequently changing his life with its massive success. Excitement about the release of the album was buffered not only by the content, but by the fact that just days before, Ocean released a letter to the public in which he openly talked about his first love being a man. Both the letter and the album were revelatory, and emblematic of Frank Ocean’s style of art, as well as the way he chose to communicate his art.
A figure as seemingly unique as Frank Ocean is still not immune to the pressures of fame. Indeed, his uniqueness may very well render him more susceptible to the trappings of fame, as society loves to ensnare rarities of all kinds, and observe them on societies terms before moving on to something else. So it comes as no surprise that three years later, many fans and individuals in the music industry seem ready to do just that—they seem ready to quit Frank Ocean after embracing him initially. Months of delayed promises of a new album, with little indication as to when it will arrive will do that to a fan base.
The relationship between Frank Ocean and his fans resembles other relationships in the sense that the qualities that initially attract us— Ocean’s uniqueness and commitment to doing things his own way—begin to repel us as the love bloom fades. Most if not all of that bloom has worn off after three years of waiting. Clearly Frank Ocean is working on his own time, and this is an absolute necessity for any artist deeply engaged in their craft. Rushing the work would produce unsatisfactory results for both Ocean and his fans. It would be a disappointment for Ocean because he will not have remained true to himself, and what becomes of an artist no longer capable of truth? They are no longer capable of art.
Frank Ocean’s current predicament is interesting because it highlights the relationship between the artist and their fans. It is a mutually agreed upon relationship in which the artist consents to make and share their art with fans in exchange for what the artist seeks, whether it be fame, fortune, or something else. Not every relationship is the same, and as a brief comparison, the singer Adele, under somewhat similar circumstances, has not been subjected to the same sort of questioning and heckling by her fans. Adele’s last album was released in 2011, and until October of 2015 she had not released any new music, apart from a song written and performed for a James Bond film in 2012. She had not performed live in three years. Rather than derision, her choices were respected and when she did release new music, it was treated like a godsend. Why has the same amount of patience and respect for privacy not been afforded to Frank Ocean?
The extent to which Frank Ocean’s reputation has changed for the worse, and whether he even cares what others think of him are all unknown at this point. From his previous actions one can surmise that Ocean is more concerned with his creative process than his fame. This is not to say that he does not care about fame at all, and he may even care a great deal about it. What I am saying is that Frank Ocean’s relationship to his art and the process by which he creates that art seem to be paramount, while his relationship to his fans is peripheral. At best, all we can do is guess about what motivations currently guide Frank Ocean, and not fully understanding the intricacies that underlie Ocean’s art because the most we have access to are his albums as finished products, which are not always equal to the sum of their parts. But we should know about the artist as an identity, one that history tells us exists independently of fans who wait patiently or not. Frank Ocean will release his album when he is ready to, and not a day sooner, regardless of those who complain—perhaps he will be better off for doing so.