Tuesday, July 5, 2011

"Lonesome Cities" Frank Sinatra-A Man Alone


I haven't listened to Frank in quite some time. I think I can call him Frank since I've known him for thirty three years, shared the same soil of his birth and long before the Swingers type revolution of Sinatra and standards being cool I've stuck up for the man to all takers. Many times though I feel as though his studio albums are over produced and his live albums and populated with too many jokes and too much of the idea of his persona being played out in front of a crowd, him basically doing an impersonation of Sinatra much like towards the end of his career Elvis was the best Elvis impersonator on the planet.

You listen to him for the gems though, for the "Angel Eyes", the "Nancy" and the "What Now My Love" that come across as so blisteringly heartfelt and introspective from his smoke and Jack Daniel's voice that it leaves you gasping for breath stunned. It makes you want to grab the closest woman available and slow dance the night away, to lose whatever baggage you both carry on a daily basis and believe again that the withered old idea of love still exists somewhere.

"A Man Alone" is a cover album of the songs of Rod McKuen and has said to be one of Sinatra's favorite albums and collection of favorite songs. Short of Dante and Shakespeare Mckuen is one of the most prolific and widely read poets of all time. He also wrote well over 1500 songs during his life. Growing up in a household of an alcoholic father, at age eleven he ran away from home and made a living as a logger, cowboy, rail hand and rodeo cowboy until he ran into the spoken word poetry crowd the likes of Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg who he shared stages with. The hard core literary critics (who are filled with more bullshit than Rod ever dealt with on the ranch) dismissed his works but as always they never appreciate anyone who is liked and adored by many.

Later in life he was a strong proponent of AIDS awareness, and demanded black performers receive equal treatment as their white counterparts. Sinatra in the same way was significantly more open minded than people give him credit for, it is probably hard for people to imagine that one of his favorite songwriters and poets cohorted with the likes of Beat generation hip poets. But Sinatra was a man who was much more than he appeared on so many levels. His strong persona was marred by ruined relationships, suicide attempts, along with constant depression and alcoholism.

I feel sheepish to say I never was much aware of this song until just the other day when it came on at random. When it did, with the first notes, I felt as though I had heard it a million times before and treasured its value greatly. The only other two songs I have felt this way about upon first hearing was Morrison's "Tupelo Honey" and Springsteen's "Frankie". I had never heard them before in my life and with their beginning I felt as though it was an old lover calling my name while making circles with her toe in nothing but my dress shirt with two buttons hiding what was below.

The meaning is your own but for myself with just one reading of the lyrics I am sure it was penned to describe my own life. Constantly running and no matter how complete life was always wondering about those last few cities out there awaiting me on the hill with embraceable arms. In leading such a life said new cities are usually met with lonesomeness and chagrin at leaving the previous one. However within those cities there are always one more woman, one more restaurant to be sat in with her and one more train to take me away when it is all over; then at the end of the day the realization that you can never run away from yourself and your foolish urges of romantic wanderlust. I like it that way.