Frank Ocean - Channel Orange (review)

This review was published in the seventh 2012 edition of BULL magazine.

You might not have heard of Frank Orange, but he’s already worked with the crème de la crème of the American music industry: Beyonce, John Legend, Jay-Z, Kanye West…and Justin Bieber. Now, on his debut album, Ocean exhibits a musical breadth rare on a first innings.

It’s tempting to pigeon hole Ocean into the R&B box, but Channel Orange feels more diverse than this tag would suggest. The breezy ‘Sweet Life’ lands somewhere between latter-day Kanye West and Amy Winehouse’s early, care-free moments, and ‘Thinkin Bout You’ is reminiscent of the subtle sensuality of Ocean’s work on Beyonce’s last album. ‘Pyramids’ is difficult to pin down in one sentence – suffice to say it clocks in at ten minutes and makes for truly fascinating listeningWhether intentional or not, a thread that binds the album’s diverse sounds is the employment of uncommon, even confusing structures. The sparseness of the production on many tracks is equally refreshing. Another mark of consistency is Ocean’s evocative voice; his upper register particularly is evocative of Stevie Wonder.

Amidst this mélange of influences and sounds, one factor detracts from the whole. Four interludes, each clocking in at well under 90 seconds, help flesh things out, but add little to the musical side of things.

4 Stars

Intellipop

A tragically shortened version of this piece was published in BULL's seventh edition for 2012.

The year is 2002. You’re at your primary school’s bi-annual disco. The ageing hall is lit half-heartedly by glow sticks and a dusty disco ball, and you’ve just finished dancing ironically to The Ketchup Song. You can’t wait to get out of this dump.

As you roll your eyes and reach for your cup of watery yellow cordial, something changes. The terrible soundtrack you’ve been putting up with all night is suspended for 30 seconds or so by an intriguing melodic line backed by stabs of piano and a downbeat baritone sax. It feels slower, and the beat is different.

You come to a sudden realisation. It’s a bloody time signature change. In a pop song. This isn’t ‘Stairway To Heaven’. It’s ‘Round Round’ by the Sugababes. And it is brilliant.

You might not have experienced a eureka moment quite like this. In any case, such instances – relatively few and far between, admittedly –exemplify the revelatory nature of pop music that pushes boundaries. We might call it ‘intellipop’. A genre that manages to combine the un-combinable: the spark and catchiness of pop music, and the structural variation and credibility of more alternative genres.

‘Intellipop’ is often found in the least expected of places. Below a glossy surface may lie a surprisingly innovative musical makeup. Of course, certain popstars shove their intellect down the listener’s throat with metaphor and social commentary and allusion and imagery and concept, but the most exhilarating ‘intelli-pop’ tends to stem not from self-crafted ingénues, but rather manufactured acts and the sonic scientists who fiddle with mixing desk knobs.

‘Round Round’ – which was a solid Top Twenty single here, and a Number One in the UK – is an example of the conscious breaking of every rule upon which the standard pop song is based. The song was written and produced by British outfit Xenomania, and received praise by rock-centric music publication NME for its “whip-smart rhythms” and indie-esque “if-we-could-be-arsed drawl”. Xenomania’s name more-or-less refers to an intense obsession with everything foreign, and sums up their attitude to pop.

As well as a handful of hits for the Sugababes, the production house can also be credited with the odds-defying career of Girls Aloud. Formed on a reality TV show almost a decade ago, Girls Aloud could so easily have gone the way of Bardot or Scandal’us (we will not forget). However, steered by Xenomania they became the most successful girl-group in UK chart history, scoring twenty consecutive Top Ten hits before taking a hiatus to launch largely-disappointing solo careers.

The success of Girls Aloud is even more bizarre given their music. It’s pop in essence, and proudly so, but plays with all the structures and lyrical themes we expect from a pop song.  Their last Number One, ‘The Promise’, packs seven melodic cells – more than double the standard three - into less than four minutes. One of their other signature singles, ‘Biology’, is as baffling as it is catchy. There’s a chorus, but it’s the last of five melodies to be introduced. Sonically, it could be described as the musical equivalent of a futuristic Grace Kelly falling elegantly from a rickety apple cart into the muscled arms of a country bumpkin from the deep south of America.

"How dare they claim Skrillex brought dubstep to the masses!"

Of course, British eccentricity, while all well and good, does not a veritable musical phenomenon make. Intelli-pop has also seen fits and bursts of activity in the US. During her most hedonistic, crazy days, Britney Spears got in on the act of producing stupefying, innovative pop. On 2007’s Blackout –on which she’s listed as an Executive Producer, unlike her other albums – Spears flirted with dubstep five years before ‘Bangarang’. The sinister, dark sounds that dominate the album paved the way for the rise of Lady Gaga, and caused the album to be named “the most influential pop album of the past five years” by Rolling Stone. Turn up your noses though you may at the mere mention of Britney, Blackout was described by the indie-loving, pop-loathing Pitchfork as “envelope-pushing…disorientating and thrilling”, and inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Of course, all this raises the question of how these rather bombastic, abnormal pieces of music manage to sit prettily in the Top 10. I know what you’re thinking: “the public will buy anything if it’s marketed well”. Perhaps this is true. Flashes of flesh, tabloid tidbits, multiple costumes changes and dance routines executed with varying degrees of accuracy probably play some role in masking innovation in familiarity.

This assumption might underestimate the discerning power of the public, though. Is it not possible that the masses, as well as the popstars themselves, are in on the joke? 

We’re constantly told that the music written and played by its ‘face’ is superior to digitised, outsourced alternatives. We could attribute the success of ‘intellipop’ with the brief suspension of these assumptions. The most exciting purveyors of the genre play on pop stereotypes – the manufactured girl-group and the ditzy pop-puppet, for example. They embody them wryly and knowingly, with a literal and/or metaphorical wink-and-nudge routine, and incredibly refreshing results.

Those that lose out, then, are those who cling to notions of traditional credibility, and fail to look past what is admittedly a glamorous and aesthetically pleasing surface.

Deja view

This feature was published in BULL's seventh edition for 2012.

Reduce, reuse, recycle. Three simple words which environmental conservationists and the big, bad empires of the entertainment industry share as their common creed. Who’da thunk it?

Perhaps the phrase requires some moderation. “Reunite, remake, rerelease” seem to be the order of the day in the entertainment world. Try to hate it though we might, what journalist Natalie Craig describes as our “postmodern penchant for cultural recycling” is difficult to deny.

Usually more so than new offerings, revivals pull on our heartstrings, taking advantage of the potency of nostalgia. Absence so frequently (though not always) makes the heart grow fonder. This existing attachment works both ways, however. Often disappointing re-interpretations of once-mighty favourites induce overly-defensive, protectionist attacks. We see the contemporary updates as stains on our memories of a beloved original.

Old faithfuls, when not tampered with too much, can undergo facelifts that benefit both purveyor and audience. Disney has recently demonstrated this by capitalising on 3D technology. The Lion King 3D, released in cinemas last year, grossed almost $95 million according to Box Office Mojo. Not bad, considering the relatively small investment. Following this success, Disney’s biggest cash cows (or ‘family favourites’, as they’ll surely call them in the promos) will be undergoing similar treatments. Beauty and the Beast and now Finding Nemo have already had 3D cinematic releases, with this rollout to be succeeded by Monsters, Inc. and The Little Mermaid next year.

New is not necessarily better, however. The surviving members of iconic rock band Queen have teamed up with high-profile vocalists to aid them since the death of Freddie Mercury in 1991.  The band participated in the Olympic Closing Ceremony, with Mercury making an interactive appearance at the beginning of the sequence. However, although Jessie J took on ‘We Will Rock You’ with confidence and skill, Freddie’s raw charisma was conspicuous in its absence, casting a shadow over the performance. Journalist David Jays described the revival of the “glossy remnants” of the band, articulating the clear lack of what many continue to see as its core element.

2010's Progress: is new always better?

Fellow Olympic performers Take That serve as a case study in how to pull off a perfect, sustained reboot. When the boy-band split in 1996, soon after Robbie Williams flew the nest to become a solo star, no one expected they’d register so much as a blip on the pop charts again. Almost a decade later, however, the band (still sans Robbie) released a greatest hits package, fostering the nostalgia of mum-groupies across Britain and inspiring rumblings of more to come. The three albums they’ve released subsequently have sold almost eight million copies combined, eclipsing the band’s original sales figures. According to cultural commentator Tom Ewing, the crafting of the reunion as “a new chapter, not an unnecessary sequel” ensured the ongoing success of the group in its second manifestation. The return of Robbie on 2010’s Progress saw the group complete their seamless transformation from boy band to man-band.

Album reissuing is another phenomenon that has become mysteriously abundant in recent years. Every festive season seems to bring a slew of Greatest Hits, Number Ones, Best Ofs and Ultimate Collections from a variety of stars from the pop music hall of fame, with the addition of re-mastered, remixed or rediscovered “gems” – usually lukewarm leftovers or ‘b-sides’ – aimed at sealing the deal. These rather desperate measures might be attributed to the rapidly declining rate of CD sales that have marred the music industry since the general population discovered how to use the internet. In fact, it’s not out of the ordinary for an album to be relaunched after only a couple of months on the charts. This practice is seemingly justified by the addition of two or three new tracks aimed at inducing repeat purchase for only the most rabid of fans.

While we might expect such shameless profiteering from the music business, the tamer world of publishing is no innocent bystander either and is just as accustomed to producing questionable reworkings of cult classics to make a quick buck or two. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies is but one title in a series of zombie-fied classics that have purists reaching for their muskets. Presumably, Jane Austen’s estate approved Seth Grahame-Smith’s gory reinterpretation at some stage since Madame Austen is listed as a co-author.

The biggest change in Seth Grahame-Smith’s version of the classic is in diegesis. In his version, Darcy courts Elizabeth in an alternate universe in which the English countryside is plagued not by foxes, but the undead. Maybe the series represents an attempt to reconcile the prim and proper readers of Austen with fang-baring Twihards, that is, diehard fans of the Twilight series. In any case, this questionable repositioning seems to have paid off with a movie rumoured to be in the works. (As if we didn’t have enough versions of Pride and Prejudice already.)The pulsing activity of film franchises represents another means of cashing in on a long-existing narrative. Rather than pay for the rights to entirely new screenplays, why not just rip off and appropriate existing ones?

The continuation of many series is in some ways admirable. Twenty-two James Bond films have been released to date, with a new instalment on the immediate horizon. It’s clear that efforts have been made to update and reinvigorate the core narrative for a modern audience.  It’s also interesting to note that most long-running franchises revolve around (and are primarily targeted at) men. But, that’s a different discussion to be had in a different article.

While it’s easy to rattle off a list of franchises whose sequels and prequels dominate all-time box office lists, more often than not the law of diminishing returns applies. When a studio produces a successful movie, it’ll probably continue to release subsequent instalments until the box office numbers prompt the franchise to end with a whimper.

American Pie was released in 1999, with a sequel proving even more successful two years later. This year’s American Reunion, however – the fourth in the series – grossed $1 million less than the original, despite thirteen years of inflation. Familiarity here has apparently bred not only contempt, but also ignorance. Dragging a franchise out over any period of time is problematic. The original audience will likely grow and change, but if the franchise does so as well it is liable to accusations of ‘selling out’ or ‘not knowing its strengths’.

Of course, there’s a fine line between knowing your audience and going through the motions. Earlier this year, posters plastered across Eastern Avenue heralded the glorious reunion of S Club 7, the early-noughties juggernaut credited with chart-toppers like Don’t Stop Movin’ and Bring It All Back. The reality didn’t quite live up to this promise, and more closely resembled an RSL club tribute act than a true S Club Party. Nobody really wanted to see Bradley swing, and Rachel neither made an appearance nor did her thing. In fact, only three sevenths of the band made it to the Sunrise set, where they were joined by four dancers to make up the numbers. There’s something both tragic and cathartic about seeing the stars of yore squeezed into a costume 3 sizes too small, trying to hype a semi-invested audience into enjoying something they don’t remember all that well.

In order for yearning rather than yawning to be fostered, an appropriate period of absence should be enforced for franchises. Ewing told the Guardian that the prompts for a product’s initial demise “take time to heal”. Having rested Spiderman for a not-so-whopping five years, Marvel Entertainment this year brought the series back to the big screen. Prior to the release of The Amazing Spiderman, director Marc Webb assured fans and critics that his subject was ready for review. He told Empire magazine that there’s “something iconic about that character, but there is something also incredibly flexible that can withstand and benefit from different interpretations”. Audiences voted with their feet, however. Despite grossing a healthy $735 million, The Amazing Spiderman currently stands as the lowest-grossing Spiderman movie to date.

At the other end of the spectrum is Puberty Blues. The seminal Australian novel, released in 1979 and adapted into a cult film in 1981, lay dormant for about thirty years before finally being resurrected as a TV miniseries by Channel Ten this year. When given a wide berth, cross-media adaptations can be fascinating. Channel Ten’s series received rave reviews for the refreshing retrospective it provided on the now-denigrated Shire and its values. 

Over-saturation in any given time period, though, can be tiresome. Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes has been subject to two popular spin-offs series in recent years. The BBC’s television production has co-existed with a film franchise starring Robert Downey Jr. The two take quite different approaches in casting, setting and tone, but both play upon the same classic tales.

There’s no hard-and-fast rule regarding what should be left to the misty blur of memory, and what’s suitable to be wheeled out once again. The criteria tend to vary from one person to the next; it largely depends on whether you like your revivals to be tragic or triumphant. What you consider each category to constitute, and whether they’re mutually exclusive, is also important.

In any case, it looks as if we’re set to be privy to a whole lot more revivals. According to Ewing, bands, texts and films are increasingly undergoing a “revolving-door afterlife”. Fellow journalist Elvis Mitchell has gone so far as to claim, rather worryingly, that “nothing will go away ever again”. Bring on The Fast and the Furious 12: Hover Car Handover.