The dimension of gaps that the list has is very high, but what comes to the subject here is the first place, which was occupied by Blonde of Frank Ocean.įrank Ocean became known thanks to his mixtape Nostalgia ultra, a primitive version of Blonde, and his appearance in the Odd future collective, but where he really stood out was in this mixtape. Although the majority of the points on the list are within everything in a cohesive order, assuring the criticism they made of the albums in question, the other percentage is surprising than data from the middle of the list.
Or Rushes, which sweeps you up and swells with feeling until you think you’re going to burst with the sheer joy of being alive right now and suffused with all the horrible, wonderful, stupid emotions that entails.Review Summary: Blonde is a brand it's a summer It is a voice that gives its all to be able to tell you what is still being felt in the present.Īfter having seen the list of the best albums of the Pitchfork decade, you will be left with several doubts about the way in which the portal has to decide the list in conjunction with all the critics who must be behind the company.
Like the spiky Comme des Garcons (translation: ‘Like boys’), the thrilling, yet all-too-brief, Xenons, which rings out like a call to prayer. Yet I came to appreciate the other delights Endless had to offer. And through that lyric, I rediscovered Endless, although Alabam a, with its driving piano and achingly familiar longing for intimacy where all you desire is to know a lover’s every emotional inch and for them to want the same in turn, became the touchstone I returned to time and time again. It was, the internet told me, the coda to Alabama, sung by Sampha and Jazmine Sullivan (who also lends her vocals to Wither, Hublots and Rushes). I couldn’t remember its origins, so I googled it. ‘ What can I do?/ To know you better/ What can I do?/ To show my love?’ It was about a year after I first sat half-heartedly watching Frank building a staircase (still a metaphor even I recoil at for being too overwrought) when I became aware of a refrain circling my brain. But when given space to breathe, it's one that furtively takes root and unfurls. Endless is an oddity in a discography already defined by its creator’s desire to not conform. “I prefer to just sink into Endless.” I know what she means. “I listen to the album on days where I can’t be bothered to move or think too much about my life,” she continues. But it’s undeniable that he’s created a sound profile that’s instantly recognisable, so much so that a viral tweet by musician Nat Puff last year managed to perfectly - if lovingly - skewer the signature Ocean style of making music. That’s not to say Frank Ocean isn’t innovative he is. That’s not the case with Endless it wasn’t designed to be the type of project that would ever trouble Grammy Award nomination committees - how could it be when at least half the tracks fade into the ether before you’ve had chance to fully register them? - but it deserves more spins than it’s likely received.Įndless is Frank pulling back the curtain on his craft: it’s raw, unpolished and fluid to the extreme, but the record saw him push unexpectedly past the expectations we had of what ‘Frank Ocean’ should sound like. Current trends in pop culture critique seem to require work to be retrospectively declared the ‘GOAT’ for it to matter. No, it’s not the best album Frank Ocean has ever made. Endless is a record that deserves more than to be confined to stan Reddit threads.