The Genius of Frank Ocean’s “Close to You”
And the ingenuity of interpolation
It’s been over five years since Frank Ocean released his modern masterpiece, Blonde, and I still find myself enamoured with it every time I listen. From vulnerable ballads such as Self Control to eye-watering stories of nostalgia and love as heard in White Ferrari — the album is simply larger than life.
There’s so much to say about Blonde that I could spend all day hammering on about it (and probably the next day, too). However, today I want to discuss one track in particular.
Close to You is a song I feel deserves more love when we discuss Blonde’s legacy. It’s littered with heartbreaking lyrical observations and shrouded in sounds of familiar melodies and ethereal sampling. On first listen, avid listeners may recognise said melodies…
I’m sure almost everyone has heard Burt Bacharach and Hal David’s Close to You, widely popularised by the Carpenters. At this point, the opening lyrics are unquestionably iconic:
Why do birds suddenly appear
Every time you are near?
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you
Listening to Frank’s version with this in mind, the interpolation becomes clear: “why do birds suddenly appear” turns into “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t devastated” and so on. If you’re familiar with the original song, you may think he’s purely paying homage by adding his own, unique twist via new lyrics and ghostly background vocals layered with spacey synths and a punchy drum machine. In short: it sounds like a personal interpretation of the original.
But what if I told you Frank is actually covering a cover?
To be specific, he’s covering Stevie Wonder’s rendition of the classic hit on The David Frost Show in 1972.
I could gush about this performance forever. Utilising the talk box to perform the vocals, Stevie provides a beautiful and remarkably human rendition of the song which sounds far ahead of its time. Armed with raw talent at 21 years of age, he guides Frost and the crowd from humorously enjoying the performance to being in absolute awe with what they’re witnessing. And that transition from Close to You to Never Can Say Goodbye? Chills.
So, how can we be so sure that this is the version Frank is covering? Well, it’s directly sampled in his song.
As Frank gently delivers his vocals in a style reminiscent of the talk box (made possible using Francis and the Lights’ prismizer), we can hear Stevie’s voice chopped and looped in the instrumental. As the song progresses, it almost feels like a duet: two voices from different eras captured on the same track, interpreting the same song. It’s hauntingly beautiful.
This adds such an incredible layer to the track and I can think of no other artist who could’ve pulled it off in the way Frank and his co-producers did. It’s an excellent homage which managed to grow legs and morph into its own thing. And luckily, the genius doesn’t stop there.
Rather than directly performing the original lyrics, Frank uses this as an opportunity to further the themes of Blonde and write a brief but heartbreaking letter to an ex-partner who ended their relationship.
I’ll be honest, I wasn’t devastated
But you could’ve held my hand through this, baby
The end of this relationship hasn’t exactly emotionally destroyed him, but damn — it hurts. And what hurts more is how callously his partner ended things. The least they could’ve done was let him down gently, but unfortunately we’re not always granted that luxury.
I run my hands through what’s left
But we’re getting older, baby
Don’t have much longer, baby
It’s clear there’s still something there, but is it enough to bank on? When we only have so much time, is it really worth spending it all on something that’s largely broken, even if some pieces remain intact?
Why am I preaching
To this choir, to this atheist?
And even if he does want to keep trying, his partner doesn’t. They don’t believe in this relationship in the same way Frank does, and nothing will convince them otherwise. Truth be told: it’s over.
Just like mine, versions of these belong to you
After a while, they’re keeping me close to you
But despite everything crumbling and coming to an end, there’s still a shared closeness there. The pain is temporary, but the memories and affinity remain.
Things will continue to remind him of his ex, keeping their presence attached to his life. Perhaps it’ll be a photo; a place; or maybe even a scent. If you want to add an even further layer of complexity, it may even be a song — say, a live performance of Stevie Wonder on The David Frost Show in 1972?
Close to You is a phenomenal track that has a lot to unpack and admire. Despite only running for one minute and twenty five seconds, it manages to prove itself as a worthy piece on the stellar track-list of Blonde and stands as one of many examples throughout history (particularly in hip hop) that showcases the beauty and ingenuity which can arise from samples and interpolations. Of course, it also largely benefits from Frank’s signature display of incredible lyricism and song-writing ability.
Five years later, Blonde lives on as the awe-inspiring piece of art it was when it first graced our ears, and I’m confident that will continue to be the case for many years to come.
Thanks for reading!
