You could call Frank Ocean a niche superstar. The mysterious artist is in a zone where most of the people aren’t even aware of his existence but his fans have been waiting with bated breath for his next album for 6+ years, which he could drop anytime without announcements. That’s just how he operates. I’m not sure what exact genre you’d put his music in, but to me it sounds like an amalgamation of pop, synth, electronic, soul and R&B. Like his music, the feelings he expresses are quite wide but intense at the same time. I remember when I had first listened to his album Blonde upon my brother’s recommendation, I found him quite odd. It was nothing like I had heard before. But the music quickly grew on me. And once I dug deeper into the lyrics, I had officially joined the Frank Ocean-congregation. Among many of his songs that feature among my favourite songs list such as Pink & White, Ivy, Pyramids, and Pink Matter, one song especially close to my heart is Higgs. It does not speak of the atomic particle, no one knows what it means in the context of the lyrics, and this song is not even on any audio streaming platforms. What. A. Song. Ah.
Check it out for yourself ~
A dive into the poetry
The first 16 seconds of guitar right away sets the mood of what to expect from the rest of the song. Then you dive right into the words, no time wasted.
To go into a line by line commentary of the song one can just read the Genius page about the song. What fascinates me more about this song is how each sentence feels.
It evokes a distant memory, of something that was. Something beautiful and precious to you. Even while living in that very moment you were aware of the value but at the same time also of the brevity of it. This time is here today, and tomorrow it won’t be. But it will still be as dear to you even when you’re cherishing it from a distance, never to live that again. Not only because the time passed, but also because people changed, landscapes changed, you changed. But you will treasure that memory the same if not more as it goes farther away.
It speaks of the newness of something or someone, but brims with the awareness of how this would end.
This song is one unusual piece of poetry. The vibe of the whole track is unified in how it makes you feel, but somehow each line has its varied standalone meaning. The song works in conjunction, but each line evokes a different thought of its own. The themes of freedom and choice, companionship and loneliness, shallowness of character and depth of experiences all intertwine. It ponders over if we can choose how to live, but in the next moment leaves things to destiny. The only thing we can ever do is to play our parts to the best of our abilities. Because it is worth going through every experience we will ever have. That’s what makes you who you are. That distant memory that you might never get back and that makes you wonder what the point of it even was is now a piece of you. All good things come to an end. Life goes on. You think someone will stay and then they don’t. You imagine yourself a certain way but life has other plans. It all comes and goes, but it leaves impressions and shapes you.
And then you have all-new experiences; “it’s all new to me”.
Only to restart the cycle.
It is all new, each time. In the brokenness also lies the beauty.
The sound of nostalgia
The poetry is enough to evoke the myriads of feelings that Frank wants you to go through. The music however is what elevates the experience to the next level.
The feeling of nostalgia is stressed by the rhythmic acoustic guitar strings. Then "It’s all new to me” introduces a different experience via the electronic guitar.
And then Frank wails singing “I’ll be back before the day light’s gone”. He is calling out to the memory. He extends his heart, trying to somehow get hold of it in attempt to perhaps live it for a while if not bring it back again.
And then comes my favourite section, Frank’s voice at his peak ~
“What you give, my words can’t hold
And if acts of God breaks us apart”
But he realizes the futility of him attempting to bring something back that he knew was destined to end, and he mellows down. Catching the reality of it, but still not fully convinced to move on. But he is satisfied and content, and doesn’t regret any of it.
“Least we did ours”.
Recall a dear memory. Who else do you see in it? What were you doing in that moment? Where was all this transpiring? What were you doing, what were the others doing? How long back was it? How long did that moment last? Why did it end? Do you think you could live it again? Do you want to?
The end vocals harmonize into telling the listener — it’s all worth it guys. It’s worth the risk, the fear of it ending.
The music at the end pacifies you into a lull. The final sound is like a train leaving behind your old city, but moving to newer and hopefully better experiences.
The journey is what matters, way more than the destination.