WHERE THE HELL IS YR ALBUM, FRANK?

As the ever present and relevant punk demigod, Ian Mackaye, sang, I am a patient boy. I wait. I wait. I wait. So as I sit here waiting, I’ll throw out some questions into the digital void.

Mr. Ocean, why did you say your record was coming out in July? Insinuation or not, it’s November now and I don’t have any new Frank Ocean tunes to get busy to. I completely understand that the music industry, specifically behind the scenes, is a whole other level of Hurry up and wait!, but goddamn, come on. Just give us some basic details. I’d rather hear, Yeah, I listened to it and then I spoke to my spiritual advisor and we both agree the moon is not quite aligned with Venus so I need to sit on it and meditate for a few more months, then get no statement. Why not address the miss of the projected date and the actual date of release?

I think I can answer my own question on this one. We’ll wait however long we need to get some new tunes. Not so much because we enjoy the wait, but it’s what the fuck we have to do. I can’t come to your house and hack some external hard drive you have locked away in some immaculate orange safe guarded by two doberman’s with pink fur collars. I can’t call up your people and ask where’s the album at. I’m reduced to writing this article and spitting piss and vinegar at my mirror image as I jam your track Sweet Life from 2012’s Channel Orange.

What a dope record Channel Orange was. Sir, can I please have another?

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