Additional Editing by Anouska Liat

When Frank Ocean released his major-label debut, Channel Orange, it was paraded as the return of old-school R&B, while simultaneously pushing the genre forward with jazz elements, electronics and emotive storytelling. Helping greatly to put the style back into the public consciousness, the world then endured an infamous four-year wait for a dual-release weekend from the enigmatic crooner. Endless and Blonde were rolled out one day after the other, the former being a fragmentary album of what-felt-like demos intended to relieve Frank of his Def Jam record contract, and the latter being a much more marketable album, released independently. The success of this strategy allowed Ocean to buy back his masters soon after, thus seeing fit to return to the forgotten Endless and amend it for a full re-release, possibly in the hope that it gets adequate recognition among listeners.

Having said this, the album is not available in the usual avenues one would expect, and any official methods are now closed. Instead, the only legal way is to purchase it on vinyl, CD or VHS on a web-store that was only open for a two-week window, and not on Spotify, Apple Music or even iTunes (though is, hilariously, on PornHub). It’s telling that the album is logistically in a world of its own; commenting on how much of an oddity it is in the context of modern soul music. Though many had initially written it off as a redundant body of work used to gather promotion and get out of Frank’s Def Jam contract, Endless is a loose and near formless set of songs that does not so much reach for the stars as it begins light-years away from contemporary R&B.

On the starting cut, 'At Your Best (You Are Love)', Frank uses an Isley Brothers-written, Aaliyah-covered classic to sedate the listener into a trance. Passion lifts his voice to a heavenly degree, and that surreal energy is grounded by a stern grip on the control of that falsetto. Strings and piano ring in the periphery, careful not to step in the way of Frank’s glass vocals on this song - it’s as blissful as it is impressive.

Sonically, however, Endless hurriedly diverts to many other sectors outside of traditional R&B in an attempt to bring them closer together. Aphex Twin fans will be quick to spot the several tracks towards the back end that use drum machine beats to pulse like a Richard D. James’ composition ('Deathwish', 'Rushes To', 'Mitsubishi Sony'). A well-distilled heaping of ambient pop and a dash of today’s trap production, and the result is a project immersed in ethereal sounds and voices that swim around in the mix like schools of marine wildlife.

'Alabama' has Frank closely layering vocals to the point of overlap, they are toppling over each other. In each channel, he murmurs the impulses that travel to the forefront of his mind,  creating a whirlwind moment of claustrophobia. Backed by a marching, icy piano phrase, it blossoms to reveal Sampha’s lustrous voice cracking in the outro. Superseding the cruising opener, such a dramatic downshift occurs at only an interlude’s length, which is, in fact, a recurring trait of the record; its tracklist is incredibly spontaneous.

In terms of album flow, songs can suddenly dart down a completely different corridor as it does from ‘U-N-I-T-Y’ to ‘Comme des Garçons’, or play like the quick-changing micro-triptych of 'Slide On Me', 'Sideways' and 'Florida', which threads together into a holistic six-minute journey. The split between 'Hublots' and 'In Here Somewhere' completely passes by, crossfading from a euphoric remix of The Sherbs’ 'We Ride Tonight' (which was also sampled by Daft Punk for 'Contact') to an intoxicating beat smothered in waterlogging effects. Rather than being an unending series of transitions, Endless is bolstered by its most minuscule moments, sometimes being the most profound.

The lyrics and storytelling are up to Frank Ocean standards, providing remarkable vignettes that display him thinking simultaneously about the big picture and little details of life. 'Comme des Garçons' is a sprightly track with a buoyant beat that Frank flows over like pool water, describing a seemingly brief romantic experience until interrupted by the electric explosion of 'Xenons'. Working through a wildfire of synths and rumbling bass, Frank sounds airborne over the scene of chaos, ringing out visions of car headlights into the air. Before long, he lands at the feet of 'Wither'. Now on calmer grounds, he holds a sombre, quieter tone, backed by only the bare minimum of guitar and chords, all wrapped in a warm, demo-quality foil. It’s as if we’re hearing it from the next room, forwarding the idea that this is an incredibly private moment addressed to his lover as he starts by explaining the need for a sporadic controlled burning, to destroy something old to create something new, referencing back to the moment of disarray that was 'Xenons'. It is unclear exactly what is meant initially, however further in he visualises his future with his lover, and that his children will see them both in full bloom in the Summer of their life, as well as in Winter: “hope they’ll get to see me wither”.

While Endless is a schizophrenic album, its messy qualities strengthen the overall experience by upholstering a wealth of ideas into a record that brushes the 45-minute mark. Twinning as the abstract counterpart to Blonde, the pair is like having Beyonce and Solange, with this being the off-centre sister that favours Tyler, the Creator over Drake and makes art-house films. Though Blonde will historically be the more revered effort of the two for having a more fleshed-out and detailed concept, with Endless, Frank takes a confounding plunge into the avant-garde.