Skip to main content

Thursday Tunes: Frank Ocean performs "Bad Religion" on Jimmy Fallon


 Frank Ocean is dope.

Period.

What a brave soul...as an instrumental person in the fusion of R&B and Hip-Hop with a dash of pop, lending his pipes and writing to Jay Z, Kanye and a host of other people. He was featured on a few songs on "Watch the Throne"....but his internet release mixtape "Nostaliga, Ultra" is what really made me fall in love with him.. A Native of New Orleans, his voice just paralyzes me.... Singer, Songwriter and part of the hip-hop alternative collective of "Odd Future" ...he is a force to be reckoned with.

He reminds me of a new-age Stevie Wonder or something.....his voice..his passion. I last featured him on the blog with the song "Thinkin Bout You"...but now he has his first major label release, just a week after he "came out" (or rather, explained.....) that he had been previously in a homosexual relationship. Who cares, right?  Apprently some in the hip-hop community and some narrow mnded people do..but overall there has been nothing but an outpouring of support. Even Beyonce had a post dedicated to him on her blog/Tumblr. I swear..homophobia and the black community prob deserves it's own post. But not today....today we celebrate Christopher Breaux aka Frank Ocean....


His performance of "Bad Religion" on Jimmy Fallon earlier this week (with the Roots as background as well as the strings...my god...the STRINGS....*faint*) was so perfect. Superb. Brilliant even. In the song, he talks about unrequited love......of a man. Man..that has to hurt...to feel passion for someone (no matter the sex) and who won't return the love....and can't return or...or can't articulate it out of fear....or whatever...

Despite your orientation..we have all been there right?? Shoot...I might be there now.......*sigh*
No words. Clearly "Channel Orange" is about to be a super influential album. I smell Grammy.....

Frank Ocean is dope.

Period.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

2018: A Year Without Fear

I used to make these lofty, resolution goals each year. The older I got, the grander my ideas became. That is until I reached the age of 30 and my entire life shifted.

At the time, I was divorced, living totally on my own, trying to rebuild myself financially and trying to figure out my next move toward happiness. That was at the time I started this blog.... which started out as my chronicling the dating and mating of a 30 something divorcee' in the South's Largest Metropolis. I was trying to date. I was trying to establish myself financially. And I was trying to find my purpose.

So much has changed in the almost 9 years since I started this blog. I've traveled alone. I gained and lost friends. I got into a Ph.D. program. I got re-married. I lost my mother, my best friend.... not to mention my uncle, cousin, and aunt. I gained a sweet baby girl.  I went from getting my bliss.... to trying to balance that bliss with my own life..... Yet in trying to find the balance, I alw…

I Had Hope For Other Hair: Confessions in Black Motherhood

I had hoped for other hair...
(My Little One Reading a Book Before Bed)

... for my daughter.

No, I didn't want her to have "good hair"... hair that ebbed and flowed close to the weight of Whiteness. I didn't want that for her.  I didn't want her to have hair that was deemed "managable" or "a good grade". as if you can give hair letter grades or grade it on a curve.

I just wanted her to have any hair other than MY hair. She inherited my hair. And I cried.

When I found out I was having a girl, anxiety was replaced with dread. "Dear God.. I have to learn how to do hair". See, growing up, my mother was my stylist, even way into high school. So in between salon visits, she would relax or press my hair. She'd style it or comb it. And I never worried about it. I tried and tried to do my own hair... and failed. The only style I could keep up were Brandy-inspired box braids (which some poor, Senegalese woman would do for hours) or a very sho…

The Art of the Dirty Talk

I am the queen of talking dirty after dark. I mean I am GOOD at it. VERY good. So much so I dated a guy and for months..all he wanted me to do was speak nasty to him. We never has sex. Nothing. Just a bunch of dirty talk....and he was happy. (Hey..a very safe sex fetish!) Heck..I'm even considering picking up some extra income in this economy and becoming a phone sex operator...my job does NOT pay enough.

I will say there is an ART to dirty talk. You cant be shy. You cant be a prude and say things 1) you are not comfortable saying and 2) that you certainly can't back up if you are in a position to act on those things with a trust partner. 3 ) things you have no real reference point of familiarity with. Don;t say you are down for a "golden shower" if you think that has something to do with "lemonade kool-aid". DOn't pretend to have a weird accent. That would be ROLE playing..and not "talking dirty". BUT a lot of "talking dirty" is role…