Frank Ocean wrote so eloquently about his personal life last week that it’s tempting to read autobiography into each verse on Channel Orange, which is (stating the obvious here) one of the year’s best albums. The unrequited love and soul-searching uncertainty of “Thinkin Bout You,” “Bad Religion,” “Pink Matter” and “Forrest Gump” surely echo what he’s told us about himself. But I have no clue how much time he’s actually spent around the vapid children of privilege portrayed so keenly in “Super Rich Kids” and “Sweet Life,” and I presume he’s never personally enacted the murderous endgame of “Crack Rock.” Does that mean the other stories are fictional, too? Who cares? It hardly matters if any of them are literally true when they’re this well told. We could do with more artists who share Frank’s taste for narrative.