But regardless of how Ocean or anyone else decides to classify them, we now have two more Frank Ocean full-lengths than we had Thursday afternoon. We already saw the great video for “ Nikes” and now you can make your way to the rest of the album at Apple Music/iTunes and convene here to process our weird new reality.
twoooooo versions #frankocean #nyc #popupshop #hype #blonde #boysdontcryĪ photo posted by Jacob Holzman on at 4:38pm PDT There are also pop-up shops for Ocean’s Boys Don’t Cry magazine in New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, and London you can find the locations below.Īt 360 pages, Boys Don’t Cry contains an interview with Lil B, a poem about McDonald’s by Kanye West, an Ocean-penned poem titled “Boyfriend,” horoscopes, high-fashion photos, and a list of album contributors that includes West, David Bowie, the Beatles, Elliot Smith, Kendrick Lamar, Jonny Greenwood, Amber Coffman, Brian Eno, Andre 3000, Jamie xx, Gang Of Four, Rostam Batmanglij, Yung Lean, and Beyoncé:Ībout to get two versions. Two versions indeed! This is reportedly the tracklist of the magazine version: KANYE WROTE A RAP ABOUT MCDONALDS FOR FRANK'S MAGAZINE, IM DEAD /qdr2Ub2YNsĪccording to fans who have snagged a copy of the magazine, the tracklist listed in the zine is different from the tracklist on Apple Music (and doesn’t include “Nikes”). I HAD THE TIME OF MY LIFE MAKING ALL OF THIS. …and shares this mission statement or sorts:ĮSPECIALLY THOSE OF YOU WHO NEVER LET ME FORGET I HAD TO FINISH. Two years ago I found an image of a kid with her hands covering her face. A seatbelt reached across her torso, riding up her neck and a mop of blonde hair stayed swept, for the moment, behind her ears. Her eyes seemed clear and calm but not blank, the road behind her seemed the same. I put myself in her seat then I played it all out in my head. The claustrophobia hits as the seatbelt tightens, preventing me from even leaning forward in my seat. How much of my life has happened inside of a car? I wonder if the odds are that I’ll die in one. We live in cars in some cities, commuting across space either for our livelihood, or devouring fossil fuels for joy. It’s close to as much time as we spend in our beds, more for some. The first time I did shrooms, my manager had to come rescue me from Caltech’s ‘Trip Day.’ As I got into her car, I swear to God the aluminum center console in her Porsche truck looked like it was breathing, like the throat of something. On the freeway, leaving Pasadena, we spoke and I looked away, outside, at the wheels and tires of cars doing that optical illusion thing they do where it looks like they’re spinning backwards, which, according to Google, happens because our brains are assuming something completely wrong and showing it to us. Staring, I was transfixed by all the indicator lights oscillating and throbbing against the wind. We drove thru downtown LA headed west, flying on the same freeways I used to run outta gas on.
Welcomed in by the perennial creatures, imperial palm trees and climbing vines living their lives out just off the shoulder. The feeling familiar enhanced, on the 10. I used to ride around in my sinewy crossover SUV, smoke and listen to rough mixes of my old shit before it came out, or whatever someone wanted to play when they hooked up their iPhone to the aux cord. A few years and few daily-drivers later I’m not driving much anymore.
It’s been a year since I moved to London, at the time of writing this, and there’s no practical reason to drive in this city. I ordered a GT3 RS and it’ll keep low miles out here but I guess it’s good to have in case of emergency ? Raf Simons once told me it was cliché, my whole car obsession. Maybe it links to a deep subconscious straight boy fantasy. Consciously though, I don’t want straight-a little bent is good. I found it romantic, sometimes, editing this project. The whole time I felt as though I was in the presence of a $16m McLaren F1 armed with a disposable camera.
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