Love Crimes by Frank Ocean Lyrics Meaning – Unveiling the Emotional Depths of Passion
Lyrics
Do me baby, I better not feel it girl
Baby, I still got one bullet left in my nine
Finna do a lovecrime, lovecrime, finna do a lovecrime
Murder, murder, murder she wrote
Lovecrimes, lovecrimes
Murder, murder, murder she wrote
Lovecrimes, lovecrimes
You write me love letters with your father’s pen
If he knew the freaky, freaky things that you write with it
Is it really wrong that I want to be the baby daddy?
Is that a lovecrime, lovecrime? Tell me it’s a lovecrime
Murder, murder, murder she wrote
Lovecrimes, lovecrimes
Murder, murder, murder she wrote
Lovecrimes, lovecrimes
Murder, murder, murder she wrote
Lovecrimes, lovecrimes
In the getaway car
You know I love it when the ride is smooth
If we ever get caught
It’d be a long vacation for two
Murder, murder, murder she wrote
Lovecrimes, lovecrimes
Frank Ocean’s track ‘Love Crimes’ from his nostalgic, boundary-pushing mixtape ‘Nostalgia, Ultra’ remains an enigmatic but deeply evocative piece of his discography. On the surface, the track could be merely another sultry rhythm & blues entry, but Ocean’s lyrical mastery invites a closer, more profound inspection.
This exploration peels back the layers of ‘Love Crimes,’ revealing the complexity hidden within its poetic economy. Each line, uttered with Ocean’s velvety conviction, expands into a universe of emotion and narrative that compels listeners to decode the love crimes of which he sings.
Passion’s Dangerous Edge: Intensity in Simplicity
The opening lines of ‘Love Crimes’ bring us face to face with a conundrum—words are void, but the physical connection is paramount (‘Talk to me and I better not hear a word / Do me baby, I better not feel it girl’). In these lines, Ocean distills the quintessential moment of truth in relationships where communication falters but physical intimacy speaks volumes.
Ocean’s narrative is one of risk and rebellion against the normative boundaries of love. The single bullet left in his nine suggests the scarcity of chances, the high stakes game of love he’s playing. It’s a love so deep and consuming that it feels criminal, hence a ‘lovecrime.’ The act of love here is both a salvation and a sin, a last resort and an ultimate expression.
An Irresistible Confession Booth: The Weight of Words
In verse two, the layered storytelling continues as Ocean paints a vivid scene with frugal words: ‘You write me love letters with your father’s pen / If he knew the freaky, freaky things that you write with it.’ This secretive exchange, illicit and charged with a sense of forbidden desire, captures the essence of youth’s clandestine passions and the daring it takes to express them.
Ocean’s vocal delivery and the sparse instrumentation allow these words to resonate with a fraught intensity. They’re not simply letters; they are manifestations of a passion so potent it feels like a transgression against the older, ostensibly wiser generation represented by the father—a generational love crime.
The ‘Baby Daddy’ Quandary: Interrogating Taboo Desires
Within ‘Love Crimes,’ Ocean ventures into contentious territory, tapping into the taboo of yearning for a domesticity that’s yet unconventional (‘Is it really wrong that I want to be the baby daddy?’). The term ‘baby daddy’ conjures imagery of societal judgments and non-traditional family structures, pushing listeners to ponder societal norms about love and commitment.
Ocean challenges the listener to consider if such a desire constitutes a ‘lovecrime,’ blurring the lines between what constitutes acceptable manifestations of love within the purview of society’s laws and norms. His question hangs in the air, unanswered, proposing that perhaps, in love, the idea of crime is irrelevant.
Escape Velocity: The Allure of the ‘Getaway Car’
Emerging as a recurring motif in storytelling, the ‘getaway car’ in ‘Love Crimes’ isn’t just a means of escape; it’s a symbol of the journey away from the consequences of societal transgressions (‘In the getaway car / You know I love it when the ride is smooth’).
Ocean simultaneously romanticizes the escape while acknowledging its perils. This duality captures the oxymoronic nature of love’s crimes: the pursuit for freedom and the inevitability of facing the music. It’s a sensual ode to the moment, a suspended reality with the looming ‘long vacation for two,’ which could imply an extended bliss or a foreboding downfall.
Decoding ‘Murder’: The Punishing End of a Love Story
The refrain ‘Murder, murder, murder she wrote / Lovecrimes, lovecrimes’ is a refrain that functions like a heartbeat throughout ‘Love Crimes,’ reminding us that passion can be both life-giving and life-taking. Ocean borrows from the lexicon of the legal and the lethal to describe the consuming nature of love – its ability to ‘murder’ the old self, to reinvent, and to wound.
This juxtaposition plays on the dramatic extremes, suggesting that love, in its most potent form, can feel overwhelmingly conclusive yet inherently worth the existential risk. The act of writing ‘lovecrimes’ only adds to the gravity of the emotion portrayed, perhaps pointing to the idea that every great love writes its own rules, even in the face of potential self-destruction.
