Frank Ocean has character. He's rare. In a world that divvies up art by genre, that constantly seeks to quantify cool, he is impossible to miss, like a panda bear in a pine forest. And over the past year or so, he's become harder and harder to ignore.

Frank had long labored behind the curtain—writing for Brandy, Justin Bieber, and John Legend—but after hooking up with L.A.'s Odd Future collective, he self-released 2011's nostalgia, ULTRA. mixtape, and his own star quickly rose. Original songs like "Novacane" and "Swim Good" showcased his knack for riveting storytelling and arrangement, climbed the R&B charts, and led to collaborations with Beyoncé, and Kanye West and Jay-Z.
The reason Frank Ocean is so interesting is not that he's a great singer (he is) or that he is audacious enough to pen 10+ minute songs (he does), or that he uses his voice less as a virtuosic display of his singing ability, but more as a vehicle for his songs. Frank Ocean is especially interesting because of how he exists outside the general conventions of the music industry.

For Channel Orange, his second release, but first official album, the first single, “Pyramids” is almost 10 minutes long and contains multiple movements—going from a big room rave to a more intimate push of sparse bass. His voice is high, beautifully thin, and so casual that most of his songs feel like a conversation. Last night we heard all of Channel Orange, which includes the already released “Pyramids” as its centerpiece.

It's a quietly ambitious record that features Ocean switching narrative points of view over lush, tasteful beats. The only guest is Andre 3000, who is still playing with the same flow he used on Drake's “The Real Her,” and it's a welcome inclusion and doesn't feel out of place at all. Mostly though, the record is all Ocean—experimenting with lyrical perspective, experimenting with the flexibility of his voice, singing from the point of view of a spoiled rich kid, or as himself, or any number of other characters.