Dissect - S3E7 - Channel Orange Recap + 4 Years Gone

Episode Date: July 3, 2018

We dissect the last three tracks from Frank Ocean's Channel Orange before drawing some overall conclusions about the album as a whole. Then we take a look at the events during the 4 years between Channel Orange and Frank's next albums Endless and Blonde. Listen to Dissect on Spotify for early access to episodes and exclusive bonus episodes. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

From Spotify Studios, this is Dissect, long-form musical analysis broken into short digestible episodes. I'm your host, Cole Kushner. Today we conclude our six-episode miniseries on Channel Orange by Frank Ocean. On our last episode, we dissected the song Bad Religion, an emotional ballad about the pain caused by unrequited love. Channel Orange concludes with three tracks we'll cover today in broad strokes. Pink Matter, Forrest Gump, and the album's final track, End. Pink Matter was written by... Frank Ocean, Malay, and Andre 3,000 of the rap duo Outcast. Its minimal, sultry production,

and meditative tempo provide an elegant backdrop to Ocean's philosophical rumination about the interplay between consciousness, sexuality, and pleasure. Pink Matter's opening verse begins with Frank posing a classic philosophical question, to which an internal sensei replies, gray matter. Sense replied, what is your woman? Is she just a container for the child? That soft pink matter. Cotton candy,

myles and bull. Frank sings, what do you think my brain is made for? Is it just a container for the mind? This great gray matter. Frank here is evoking a timeless philosophical question known as the mind-body problem. While it's an ageless question too large to explore with any justifiable depth on our episode today, in short, the mind-body problem ponderes the independence and working relationship of body and mind. It asks, is the mind part of the body or is the body part of the

mind? And if the two are distinct from one another, how do they interact? And most importantly, who's in charge? As we'll see, this question is acted out in both verse one and two of Pink Matter, as Frank seems to be questioning the physical pleasure he receives from a woman. Frank punctuates the verse with the line This Great Grey Matter referring to the cell bodies named gray matter that comprise much of our brain tissue. It's a clever line as it refers

to both the mind-body question just posed while also using the color gray to represent his uncertainty and internal conflict. In true Eastern philosophical fashion, the verse continues with a Sensei answering Frank's question with another question. Quote, Sensei replied,

What is your woman? Is she just a container for the child, that soft pink matter. We might suspect the sensei here is Frank's conscious, and this back and forth is an internal dialogue he's having with himself about his intentions and feelings for a woman. And where gray matter referred to the mind, pink matter here refers to a woman's vagina. Frank continues to describe this pink matter metaphor, cotton candy, Margin Boo. Marginboo is a fictional character in the final villain in the Japanese comic series Dragon Ball. He's a small pink creature that can turn objects and living things into

sweets, which he then consumes, playing nicely with the cotton candy reference just heard. And just as the mind-body problem questions a relationship between consciousness and the physical brain and body, Frank seems to be questioning himself about the relationship between women and sex, asking, is she just a container for the child? Of course evokes child-rearing, but also the sexual act that creates the child, which Frank seems to be partaking in as the song continues. Frank sings, close my eyes and fall in. into you. My God, she's giving me pleasure. It would seem for now Frank chooses to ignore the internal

battle of his mind, closes his eyes, and falls into the woman, which we assume insinuates intercourse. He then sings passionately, she's giving me pleasure. We understand now with clarity the song's mind body problem. His body feels primal pleasure from sex with this woman, but his mind is morally conflicted. The body and mind are disconnected, and operating independently, leaving Frank confused. In verse 2, the plot thickens as Frank asks another philosophical question. Frank begins the verse, What if the sky and the stars are for show? And the aliens are watching live from the Purple Matter.

Here, Purple Matter is used to evoke the cosmos, and he's conjecturing about the possibility of a reality being a spectacle for aliens in the sky. It's a question rooted in perspective, as we might suspect Frank is questioning whether his current conflict or life in general is small and trivial in the grand scheme of the universe. As the verse continues, the sensei begins sparring with Frank, which may suggest more back and forth, more internal conflict and dialogue about his situation. Like verse one, Frank eventually resigns, saying, we both grew tired, nothing mattered. In the end, the existential debate in his mind

proves futile, and he gives in to physical pleasure once again, ending the verse with the line, pleasure over matter. It's a play on the phrase mind over matter, and encapsulates the conflict and ultimate resolution of verses 1 and 2. Frank chooses pleasure over the mind, over the gray matter of his troubled consciousness. Pink Matter continues with a guest verse from Andre 3,000, who expounds upon his effatuation with a woman. We're going to save our detailed breakdown of Andre's verse for our bonus episode,

which will provide us the time and attention his verse deserves. For now, we're going to skip to the song's bridge, in which Andre plays a guitar solo, and Frank's detuned voice recites a few telling lines. Frank sings, gray matter. Blue used to be my favorite color. Now I ain't got no choice. Blue matter. There's a number of interpretive possibilities here. On the surface, blue could be used to represent sadness, being blue about his current situation. But it's hard to hear these lines and not consider the possibility that Frank is hinting at his sexuality. Gray matter could be used here to represent ambiguity and the fog-like haziness of his sexuality.

followed by a reference to the color blue. Like pink is stereotypically linked to women, blue is a color typically associated with males. He says, I ain't got no choice, blue matter. This lack of choice is reminiscent of a few lines in Frank's open letter that reveal the details of his first love. Quote, by the time I realized I was in love, it was malignant, it was hopeless, there was no escaping, no negotiating with the feeling, no choice. It was my first love, it changed my life, unquote. The letter continues with the passage that might also help illuminate Frank's internal conflict about women he displays throughout pink matter.

Quote, back then, my mind would wander to the women I'd been with, the ones I cared for and thought I was in love with. I reminisced about the sentimental songs I enjoyed when I was a teenager, the ones I played when I experienced a girlfriend for the first time. I realized they were written in a language I did not yet speak, unquote. With all things considered, we might entertain the idea that people, Pink matters in part about coming to terms with one's own sexual identity. Not as gay, not as straight, but perhaps something gray, something fluid. We realize that while verse one specifically references

a woman, verse two does not specify a gender. We also realize Pink Matter is placed in between two songs that both directly address a male love interest. On bad religion, Frank's character was psychologically tormented by the unrequited love between himself and another man. On Pink Matter, Frank is perhaps attempting to come to terms with his sexuality. And then we hear what sounds like a commemoration on the album's next and final song, Forrest Gump. I want to see a pomp-poms from the stairs. Come on, come on my fingertips. Forrest Gump was written by Frank Ocean and Malay.

Thematically, the song builds upon the 1994 movie Forrest Gump, starring Tom Hanks. The film centers around a lifelong relationship. between the character Forrest Gump and a woman named Jenny. The two become close friends in grade school, and while Forrest has strong feelings for Jenny, she doesn't reciprocate in that way. The two live out their lives mostly separate from one another, but they frequently reunite, always sharing a very close bond. Finally, near the film's end, Jenny and Forrest make love, but Jenny leaves Forrest the next day.

When the two reunite years later, Jenny has a child, which is Forrest's. Jenny proposes to Forrest, finally giving in to her lifelong feelings for him. The two marry and Jenny dies a year later. The film's plot is essential to our understanding of Frank Ocean's Forrest Gump. The song's hook sees Frank embodying the Jenny character, who watches Forrest from a distance. Later, run my mind boy, running on my mind, boy. Forest gum, I saw you game, forest. Later, at the song's end, Frank sings a touching outro that brings Channel Orange to its musical end.

Forest gum, forest green, forest blues, I'm remembering. This is a live, I know it's true. Frank sings Forrest Green, Forest Blues. I'm remembering you. This is love. I know it's true. I won't forget you. It's for you, Forrest. These final words on Channel Orange brilliantly surmised two of the album's foundational reoccurring motifs, color and the television. Of course, the entire song is built upon the film Forrest Gump, and he describes his memories as Forest Green and Forest Blues. Green is traditionally symbolic of nature, growth, harmony, and safety. By saying Forrest Blues, not Forrest Blue, Frank seems to be playing off blues as in melancholy or sadness. By juxtaposing these two sentiments, both positive and negative, both happy and sad, it would seem to be a summary

of his feelings for his first love. While of course he's disappointed that they aren't together, he's content knowing that what he felt was real, was love in his purest form. Like Jenny and Forrest Gump, Frank and his first love will continue their life past separately, but ever connected by their genuine and pure love for one another. Like Frank beautifully sings, this is love, I know it's true, I won't forget you. These lines are nearly identical to lines in Frank's open letter about his first love. Quote, I won't forget you, I won't forget the summer, I'll remember who I was when I met you, I'll remember who you were and how we've both changed and stayed the same. I've never had more respect for life and living than I have right now."

With the open letter, with Forrest Gump, with Channel Orange, Frank seems to have reached contentment by coming to terms with his true feelings, by finding beauty and tragedy, by harmonizing joy and suffering, by uniting the past with forever. In this way, Channel Orange is a coming-of-age story, one that if we strip away the specifics, tells the story of a character overcoming tragedy and not only finding himself along the way, but also accepting what he found and moving forward with the clarity of mind that comes with self-acceptance. That's a universal story, a timeless story, a story that transcends gender and sexual preference, a story to which we can all relate.

Channel Orange ends with a final skit titled End. It takes place inside a car where we find a man and woman talking while rain falls outside. The male voice is detuned and time warped, while the female voice is more understandable. We hear the female voice say, you're all right, there's something about you. I can't believe I'm even talking and telling you this. You special. I wish you can see what I see. Then the two kiss. Someone then exits the car, which we assume as Frank, and walks in the rain to his door. After entering the house, Frank walks to the television, shuts it off, and the album ends. This closing skit is actually in part a recreation

from a scene from the movie ATL starring Ti. The scene involves the film's protagonist, Rashad, sitting inside at El Camino with Nunu, a girl he met at a skating rink. Inside the car, Nunu hears one of her favorite songs, At Your Best You Are Love by Aaliyah, and turns up the volume. It's no coincidence, by the way, that Ocean's next album, Endless, would open with the cover of this song. Just like the ATL scene, someone turns up the volume in the car in Ocean's skit. The song is all we've got is each other.

Being played is Ocean's Voodoo, a standalone track released on his Tumblr page months before Channel Orange. It's no coincidence that the line being sung precisely after the volume is turned up is, quote, looks like all we've got is each other, the truth is obsolete. As we'll see, Ocean's car scene is a fantasy, a rewriting of history regarding he and his first love. The car scene in ATL continues with Nunu telling Rashad he's special. You...

You are. You got a little style to you. You're real confident. I can't believe I'm even talking to you and telling you this right now. You're special. Special, huh? You don't know about that. I wish you can see what I see.

The two then kiss. As we already heard, Nunu's lines from this scene are recreated almost verbatim in Ocean Skit, as well as the Kiss. Of course, in Ocean's version, Rashad's lines are something. spoken by Frank, whose voice is detuned and time warped, which we might assume replicates what it's like to hear yourself talk in a dream. And certainly Ocean Skid is portraying a dream or fantasy based on this scene in ATL. We might also confidently speculate that it's a fantasy based on the night Frank confessed his feelings for his first love, which we know from his open letter took place in a car. Quote, I was in a Nissan Maxima, the same car I packed up with bags and drove to Los Angeles

in. I sat there and told my friend how I felt. I wept as the words left my mouth. I grieve for them, knowing I can never take them back for myself. He patted my back. He said kind things. He did his best, but he wouldn't admit the same. He had to go back inside soon. It was late and his girlfriend was waiting for him upstairs. He wouldn't tell the truth about his feelings for me for another three years. I felt like I only imagined reciprocity for years. Now I imagine being thrown from a cliff. No, I wasn't on a cliff. I was still in my car telling myself it was going to be fine and to take deep breaths. I took the breaths and carried on.

I kept up a peculiar friendship with him because I couldn't imagine my life without him. I struggled to master myself and my emotions. I wasn't always successful, unquote. In contrast to Frank's heart-wrenching rejection in a Nissan maxima, the skit at the end of Channel Orange is a fantasy of what he wished had happened. Of course, he wanted reciprocity, wanted to be loved back, wanted them to formalize their love with a kiss. This rewriting of history on Ocean's skit

seems to fall in line with Frank's views on what art should be, as he told in New York Times, quote, "'Arts everything we hope life would be a lot of times. That's what I get from it. And that's what I've tried to do. And the storytelling and the sonics and everything, that's what I've tried to do, because I just think that's the purpose of art,' unquote.

Indeed, this sentiment in lines with Frank's comments about the album itself, saying, quote, I wanted to create worlds that were rosier than mine. I tried to channel overwhelming emotions, unquote. Through the catharsis of Channel Orange of the open letter, Frank confronted head on his unresolved emotions and fear, coming out the other side ready to move on. We recall what Frank told GQ, quote,

The night I posted it, I cried like a fucking baby. It was like all the frequency just clicked to a change in my head. All the receptors were now receiving a different signal, and I was happy. I hadn't been happy in so long. I've been sad again since, but it's a totally different take on sad. There's just some magic and truth and honesty and openness, unquote. I would argue that magic that Frank speaks of is the ability to rewrite one's history, because history is nothing more than memories, and memories are only as powerful as the emotions

we attach to them. And when you confront painful memories as honestly and cathartically as Ocean has on Channel Orange, you alter the effects of memory by changing the emotions that come with them. That's the magic. That's personal transformation. It's the reason he can now look back and express gratitude toward his first love. It's the reason Frank can reimagine that pivotal car scene. The reason he can turn the television off at the end of the album. It's the reason he can move on, a free man, happy. We'll be back right after the break. Welcome back to Dissect. In an interview with the BBC, Frank described Channel Orange as a borderline concept album, which is certainly an accurate description. While it's looser than more traditional, stricter concept albums in terms of

overarching narrative, Channel Orange contains a number of thematic throughlines and reoccurring sonic motifs to create a unified body of work that we might speculate tells the story centered around Frank's first love, a love that was not reciprocated the way Frank desired. We start with the album's title, Channel Orange. Channel is a direct reference to a television channel. The channel's name is orange, and as you'll remember, Frank stated that orange is the color that reminds him of the summer he first fell in love, the same love described in his open letter. In this way, Frank is channeling orange, channeling that summer, those feelings throughout the album. This is, of course, represented visually on the album's cover, which is flooded entirely with the color orange.

The album's main motivic throughline is, of course, the television. As you remember, channel orange opens with a dream sequence of two men laughing, which seems to depict Frank in his first love during that transformative summer. This dream is followed by Frank waking up abruptly and turning on the television. In an ID Vice article, Frank stated that, quote, whenever I feel alone, I watch live television. Something about it being okay on their end makes it okay on mine, unquote. In this way, we can view Frank playing video games and watching television as an attempt to cope or distract himself from the loneliness caused by the memories of his first love. The television motif, specifically the sounds of channels being changed, reappears between many of the tracks on the album. We come then to

view the songs themselves as different channels Frank is watching, surreal fantasies based on Frank's experiences, feelings, and imagination. Aside from the channel being changed in between songs, the television motif also appears within the songs themselves. Most of the songs on Channel Orange are driven by narratives, essentially standalone stories we might think about like episodes of a television program. There's also a number of samples taken directly from television shows or movies that are placed in the background of many of the album's songs. Super Rich Kids contains a sample from the show Good Times. The song Lost features a sample from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Pink Matter features chance from the movie The Last Dragon.

The album's penultimate track, Forrest Gump, draws heavily on the film and also samples it directly. Finally, there's the album's concluding skit based on a scene from the movie ATL. All these details help to unify Channel Orange around this idea of the television. Even the track order of the album can be viewed akin to the way cable television is programmed, as channels are often grouped next to each other based on category or genre type, sports, movies, drama, etc. On Channel Orange, there are groups of songs that deal with similar themes. Sweet Life, not just money and super rich kids, all deal with the effects of wealth. Super Rich Kids, Pilot Jones, crack rock, and pyramids deal with addiction and drugs.

Monks, bad religion, and pink matter carry heavy religious and philosophical overtones. These strategic groupings help to create narrative continuity and for me helped to portray someone flipping through channels of a television. Of course, the television is an interesting medium to explore on an audio-only album, as it obviously relies heavily on a visual component. But as Frank stated in a rare recorded interview with the BBC, he approaches music like a visual artist. I do feel more like a visual artist. When your storytelling is, you know, your own experiences and memories and you know personal wisdom and knowledge so a lot of that when I pull from that place it comes along with pictures you know and when I'm when I'm

trying to make a song even the form of it even the part that doesn't have words the parts that don't have words is still you know really trying to make a photograph out of something that you can never see you know like materials that aren't visible but still trying to make a photograph you know. Indeed, these visual components are everywhere on Channel Orange. From the album's opening and closing skits to the visual storytelling to the interjection of television samples and many of the songs, Channel Orange is flooded with imagery,

color, and rich sonic environments that beautifully house Frank's memories, emotions, and stories. It's about the stories, like I said. So if I write 14 stories that I love, then the next step is to get the environment of music around it to best, like, I guess, enveloped the story, you know, and like all kinds of sonic goodness. Sonic goodies, yo. Channel Orange was originally set to release July 17, 2012. But to get ahead of any leaks, he made the digital version available on iTunes a week early and also temporarily streamed the album in full on his Tumblr page.

Upon its release, Channel Orange was met with near-unanimous, critical acclaim. According to the album review aggregator Metacritic, Channel Orange received 46 positive critical reviews and zero negative reviews. It taught multiple year and best album lists, revered for its forward-looking genre-less musical style and mercurial vocals. Frank Ocean was nominated for a number of awards, including six Grammy nominations in 2012 alone. And while Channel Orange propelled Frank Ocean's name into the global consciousness, Frank Ocean the man would slowly begin to recede from the newfound limelight. While in promotion of Channel Orange, he gave a handful of interviews, performed on SNL, The Tonight Show, and the Grammys, and played a handful of

festivals and headlining concerts. By the end of 2013, just over a year after Channel Orange's release, Frank had all but disappeared entirely. Posts on his once very active Tumblr page became few and far between. But a few of the posts he did make seemed to hint that he's already at work on a new album. In November of 2013, he describes to be a very important. He describes to be a alone in his apartment on his birthday, watching movies and reading books, ending the post with, quote, I'm back to work these days. In 2014, a few photos of Frank in the studio surfaced, but there were long stretches when the public didn't hear a word from Frank, which was a rare phenomenon in an age where celebrities were beginning to use social media for never-ending

exposure and accessibility. But looking back, we shouldn't be all too surprised by Ocean's desire for anonymity. For one, his musical roots were in songwriting for others, which tells me his initial interest lied in the craft of songwriting, not the celebrity that comes with stardom. Also, in the time between the release of Nostalgia Ultra and Channel Orange, Frank spoke to Hot 9-7 about his mysterious persona. Why don't I know much about you, Frank? I don't know. I think that's just... Is that on purpose?

This is my personality. Are you going for the Man of Mystery thing? I'm not even going for it. It's just kind of how it is. You don't really... I know you live in L.A., but you're not really giving me, like, your vibe is not giving me L.A. What does it give you, Angie? I don't know. It's very confusing to me. It's like Man of International Man of Mystery, Frank Ocean.

I'm like the Dosecichs, man. Exactly. You're the Doseckees guy. Oh, man, that's kind of cool, though. Frank also told The Guardian, quote, It's not formulaic. It's not me necessarily trying to preserve mystique. It's who I am.

It's how I prefer to move. I don't really think that deep. deeply about it at all. I swear I don't. I'm just existing, unquote. However, there's a catch 22 in being obscure yet universally revered. For better or for worse, the mystery makes what little you say or do publicly incredibly intriguing. And this was certainly the case for Frank Ocean in the four years between Channel Orange and his next album's Endless and Blonde. In the opening of our first episode this season, we discussed at length the series of Frank Ocean events, and shall we say non-events that occurred between 2012 and 2016.

There was a few photos of Frank in the studio and a handful of cryptic hints of progress on a new album. Then there was the Dynamite 2015 post on his website, the one that really started the new album Frenzy. It showed Frank with a stack of magazines, the now famous I Got Two versions caption, and the series of hashtags that revealed the album's tentative title, Boys Don't Cry, and a release date of July 2015. Of course, First, Frank would miss that release date and remained silent for another year, surfacing again in the form of a library slip that contain a series of crossed out due dates, ending with July 2016. But just like the year prior, July came and went without an album.

But then August 1st saw the beginning of a mysterious black and white live stream that culminated with the visual album endless 19 days later. And then on August 20th, the day after the endless visuals became available to stream on demand, Frank drops another album called Blonde. A rapturous conclusion to a strenuous four-year saga. While both Endless and Blonde wholly exist on their own terms, at the time of their release, it was nearly impossible to separate the albums from the fanfare and missed release dates.

It truly was a cultural moment. Even if you weren't a fan of Frank Ocean, it was hard to completely avoid the hype. And for Frank's most ardent fans, who proudly label their Ocean-obsessed Reddit community a cult, the release of Endless and Blonde was the end of a torturous four-year-sweight. Curious to capture the emotions of Frank's most loyal fans before and after the release of Blonde, I recently posted a question on the Frank Ocean subreddit, asking members to describe their experience.

Of the over 200 responses, the main descriptor regarding the years, months, and days leading up to the release was frustration, a roller coaster, trust issues. I swear to God, Frank, I would join you in your own goddamn last name, you keep on playing me like this. It is currently 11 p.m. on a Saturday. I was just sitting down, watching Total Drama Island, eating my spam and macaroni. When then it hit me. Frank Ocean still didn't release his album. Ooh, I got emotional. Frank?

Is there an album? He's telling me right now because I don't play these games. I gain trust issues. I gain trust issues just because of you! Now when someone tells me I'll be right back, I'm like, are you sure? Because Frank Ocean said the same thing four years ago and I haven't seen shit. Okay, I don't want to scare you... Remember, there are many missed release dates, and with each miss, there was

disappointment, followed by frustration, followed by even more anticipation. And all that time they had to kill was filled by wild theorizing, Easter egg hunts, and endless speculation. Those anticipatory emotions seemed to have peak when the live stream began on August 1st. Remember, the live stream was on 24 hours a day for 19 days straight, making it impossible for some to turn it off, knowing at any time the album could begin playing. Some members of the Frank Ocean Reddit community went so far as to assign each other viewing shifts, ensuring that at least one person was watching 24 hours a day, agreeing to text the group if anything happened. So add to excitement, anticipation, disappointment, and frustration, a lack of sleep and an endless

video loop taunting fans for 456 hours straight. Frank, I will say this to you one more time. The streets cannot take any more of your bullshit. No more. None of it. These streets are tired. They are exhausted. What are you building?

What are you building? A coffin? Cause bitch. Is there an album? It was all that anticipation worth it? Did the payoff justify the suspense? Well, based on that same Reddit thread and the album's critical praise, it would seem that the answer was a resounding, universal yes. Reading through the responses of the Reddit thread I started, and it instantly becomes clear that this was more than an album, it became a crystallized moment in time. Nearly

every story explains in full detail exactly when and how they found out it released, where they were exactly when they heard it for the first time, and the precise emotions they felt while doing so I'd like to read a few of these passages now, just so we can capture some of the on-the-ground accounts of what this cultural moment was like. Garrett-Baseflug writes, quote, overall, it was the best album rollout I've experienced. I know for a fact nobody could recreate the feelings of hope, disappointment, childlike wonder, angst, incessant longing almost to the point of paranoia. It was an intimate connection to the end of my summer in 2016, and a perfect remedy for my anticipation. My first listen I was alone in my bed with my headphones in.

I cried to Nikes and again to pink and white. The atmosphere of the album gave me flashbacks of my summer in the form of a cinematic music video, with specific scenes mapping out to the music in real time behind my eyelids. It was honestly surreal how attached I was to each track on the first listen. It was almost nostalgic, even though I'd never heard it before. I guess I felt like I'd earned something and it was finally paying off. When I looked at it. When I looked at it, listen now, it's not rare for me to find myself feeling the same things I did on my first listen, with vivid flashbacks of my summer. It's like a time machine to one of the best summers I can remember. Blonde has anchored itself in a significant portion of my life, unquote. Another user writes,

quote, it was surreal. The entire release was chaotic, it was confusing, it was heartbreaking, but it ended in beauty, and I wouldn't wish to take back any of it. The album holds so many precious memories and emotions that I'm still building upon, and I really can't express just how grateful I am to have such an incredible piece of art in my life, and be able to play a part in who I am today, unquote. Another shares quote, I knew there was an album upcoming after endless, then on Saturday at 7 p.m. I was heading to watch a movie with some friends, and Blonde dropped right then and there. I was lucky I brought headphones to the movie, sitting in the corner of the movie theater listening to Blond with my eyes closed, unquote. Lastly, the user Homefinn writes,

Quote, it felt like when you see a present wrapped under the tree a few days before Christmas, but your mom is like, nah, you gotta wait. But they're right, it's better that way, unquote. When finally blonde released on August 20th, putting an end to the four-year saga, Frank Ocean took to Tumblr to acknowledge and thank his fans for their support. Quote, I had the time of my life making all of this. Thank you all. especially those of you who never let me forget I had to finish,

which is basically every one of y'all. Ha ha. Love you, unquote. History will likely render the bumpy, drawn-out release of blonde a mere footnote to a defining album of our generation, an album that will finally begin to thoroughly dive into next time on Dysect. Dysect is written and produced by me.

Additional project support by Spotify's Michelle Santucci. Original theme music by Beirocratic. Remember, when you listen to Dysect on Spotify, you'll get new episodes a week before all other platforms, as well as access to exclusive bonus episodes only available on Spotify. On this week's bonus episode, we'll examine Andre 3000's Pink Matterverse and outline some musical connections between the three closing tracks on Channel Orange. Follow at Dysect Podcast on Twitter and Instagram, and when you do, don't be afraid to say hi. I'd love to hear from you. Okay, thanks everyone. Talk to you next week.