Four years ago millions of people were introduced to Frank Ocean and his soulful crooning as he sat in front of a live studio audience surrounded by the glowing 8-bit screens of classic arcade games on “Saturday Night Live.” Since then Ocean has played an evasive game of hide and seek, on the internet and in public, leading his fans to believe they would never see the New Orleans born R&B sensation again, or hear his highly anticipated follow up to 2012’s “channel ORANGE.” They were met with cryptic images of library cards with phantom release dates and years of delays. When the wait finally ended and there was action on his website, it came in the form of a live stream titled “Endless,” which showed Ocean crafting a spiral staircase out of plywood with a fuzzy distorted soundtrack of entirely new music playing beneath the carpentry tutorial. The very next day the full length 17 track album was independently released by Ocean through Apple music alongside a wonderfully hazy and majestic music video for the lead track “Nikes” and a coffee table book titled “Boys Don’t Cry.” Finally, the fandom he has accrued during his absence could breathe a sigh of relief.

“Blonde” is a noticeable departure from the glossy beats and youthful guise of “channel ORANGE,” showing a maturation in Ocean’s incredible songwriting. In “Blonde” he exhibits a sort of spiritual enlightenment not present on his previous release, most notably in “Godspeed” and “Futura Free.” Whereas “channel ORANGE” seems to display the wide range at which Ocean can perform, “Blonde” seems to be concentrated in its musical scope. It is very explorative in its own right. However this exploration is not in complexity but in minimalism, most notably as Ocean chooses on “Solo” to be backed only by an organ and sporadic bird chirps. What’s so wonderful about this is that Ocean is able to create such complex music, yet present it as simplistic as possible and still release it with mass appeal to an audience of music consumers who in this day and age usually veer away from such stylistic melodrama and synthesizers.

Similar to “channel ORANGE,” “Blonde” incorporates short snippets of conversation but in a far more advanced fashion. On the track “Be Yourself” Ocean’s friend’s mom warns him not to become addicted to drugs or consume alcohol, which he abruptly follows up by beginning the next song, “Solo,” with the lyrics “Hand me a towel I’m dirty dancing by myself/ Gone off tabs of that acid.” This sharp juxtaposition between good natured guidance and Ocean’s total disregard towards the advice, shows how self-aware he is and the progression his music has made in those four long years. Ocean is also able to snag a verse from hip-hop virtuoso Andre 3000 on “Solo (Reprise),” which is yet another exploration into love, longing and acceptance – a topic that both artists have covered frequently.

Aesthetically, Ocean weaves the tracks together like a sonic quilt he has been working on his whole life. They flow between each other so smoothly that it feels as though you are walking through a house entering into a new room, hearing a song, then walking down the hallway as a conversation plays, and arriving to the next distinct room as soon as the next song is ready to play. This playfulness of emotion between tracks is one of the defining factors of this album and what makes it so unique in the current musical landscape.

Although it doesn’t have the shock and awe that came along with the now classic “channel ORANGE,” in its own way “Blonde” implores the listener to actually listen and hear what Ocean has to say as he pours his soul out into melodies that feel like midnight, and reveals that a lot can change in four years.