Okay—this is my first love letter to an album, but definitely not the last. Blonde had to be the first one though.

"Why?"

Honestly, I couldn’t even tell you.

Blonde came out in August 2016.

I was ten, about to turn eleven, spending my summer in Algeria like I did every year.

I remember opening my grandpa’s computer and seeing the cover in Apple Music’s “New Releases” section.

“Oh my God, Frank dropped again?!”

Yep—Endless had just come out the day before, and then this.

So no, I’m not going to talk about the first time I listened to it.

Why?

1. It’s boring.

2. I WAS TEN! I didn’t relate to shit.

What I do want to talk about is how I understand it now, at 19.

And to be honest, that understanding is only going to deepen with time. The more life I live, the more I'll relate.

So who knows—maybe I’ll write a totally different version of this in ten years.

At 19, I’ve been through a lot of bullshit.

I’ve felt every kind of emotion… except one: Love. Yes I know, corny asf.

I’ve never been in love. I’ve had crushes, been obsessed, been attached—but not in love. And honestly, I’m not stressed about it. I’m still young.

But Blonde talks a lot about love, and somehow, I still relate.
“How?” you might ask.

Well, because this album isn’t just about romantic love.

It’s about feeling love, losing it, missing it, craving it.

And that, I do understand.

With time—and a few tears—I’ve come to realise love can be the best thing ever, but also the most painful.

It lifts you up, makes you feel seen, full, alive. But it also makes you vulnerable.

And we’re all scared of that.

To me, Blonde is a mirror album. I didn’t invent the theory, but I fully believe Frank meant it that way. The song Nights literally marks the exact middle of the album—its beat switch splits Day and Night. You could end one side with the first half, and start the other with the second.

rain

“Every night fucks every day up.”

I think any situation can be experienced from at least 2 completely different points of view.

Like grief for example.

You can focus on the pain, or choose to remember the good.

You can mirror each track:

Pink + White with Pretty Sweet,

Be Yourself with Facebook Story,

Solo with Close to You…

That duality runs through everything

Day/Night, Young/Old, Life/Death...

Yes. Frank is a genius.

The first half feels bittersweet (even though, let’s be honest, the whole album is sad). But it leans more on the hopeful side.

Frank reflects on childhood, teenage memories—friends, lovers…
There’s nostalgia, but also an awareness that things didn’t end well.

For example

“I thought I was dreaming when you said you loved me.”

Sweet, right?

Anyway…

You’re probably wondering what my favorite track is.

But then comes the second half.

Darker. Heavier.

“Every night fucks every day up.”

Exactly.

On Pretty Sweet—which mirrors Pink + White—he’s no longer reminiscing.

The people are gone.

For good.

That hits home for me. I tend to reflect, to cherish memories, to believe they’re in a better place.

But then—like the Nights beat switch—grief just hits.

And all I can think is: they’re gone.

Throughout the album, there’s also this other story: a failed relationship.

Frank sings about many breakups, sure, but one seems to follow us the whole way.

To me, the album traces that one relationship—like a curve. From Nikes (the beginning) to the first half of Nights (the high point), he falls deeper and deeper. Then from the second half of Nights to Futura Free, it all collapses.

Even the production reflects that descent.

Frank, thank you for these 60 minutes of freedom. 

I hope I get to tell you this in person someday.