The issue at the centre of the fuss – an unconsummated man-crush five years ago – certainly doesn't feel central to the album. While a mainstream urban artist suggesting he's anything other than rabidly heterosexual is certainly a big deal, it would be a shame if that's what Channel Orange was remembered for. Now the talk has moved to what its author may or may not do in bed, and it's loud enough to drown out his music entirely. If the lyrical conceit – contrasting the fortunes of the last pharaoh of Egypt with those of a latterday prostitute – seemed ambitious to the point of sounding slightly daft, the track was certainly unlike anything else in current R&B. Nine minutes long, brazenly episodic, shifting from hallucinatory ambience to synthesised funk to slow-jam R&B to a sprawling, vaguely Pink Floyd-like guitar solo, it sounded remarkably audacious. Ocean was already much-discussed before he mentioned his sexuality, and the discussion was largely about Pyramids, the astonishing album track he leaked weeks ago. People have made comparisons to David Bowie's 'I'm gay' interview from January 1972, but the difference is that in January 1972 David Bowie had almost nothing to lose: he was a one-hit wonder whose previous two albums had failed to chart. However brave his stand, you patently don't sell R&B albums by becoming a liberal cause celebre. His announcement arrived just before his major label debut album was due and overnight it turned Ocean into the most-discussed R&B artist in the world.Īnd yet, if it is a publicity stunt, it's an incredibly risky one. In fairness, you can see why people thought that. T he news that Frank Ocean had apparently outed himself as bisexual received a variety of reactions, but perhaps the most curious was the suggestion he was indulging in a kind of publicity stunt.

Guardian channel orange review