Friday in Corporate Hell (Part 2)

Okay, now that the psycho babble bullshit is done and over with I can move onto happier listening, something which also happened to be released in the same year (1970), ‘Watertown‘  by Frank Sinatra.


Hows that for a complete artistic turnaround?

While Elvis and The Beatles may have defined the true spirit of Rock ‘n’ Roll, it was Sinatra who ushered in the era of cool. From the Rat Pack to Vegas, the East Coast to the West Coast, it was Frank’s world, and everyone else was just living in it.

‘Watertown’  is Frankie’s concept album centered on a man from Watertown, New York.  In a series of soliloquies, the nameless narrator tells his heartbreaking story of personal loss: his wife has left him and their two boys for the lure of the big city.  So when I say “happier listening”, that’s kind of subjective I guess.  At least this isn’t going to inspire me to stick a fork in anyone’s abdomen.

The album was produced and co-written by Bob Gaudio, one of four members of The Four Seasons.  It is the only album Sinatra ever voiced over pre-recorded orchestral tracks and it was released to mixed critical reviews and poor sales (so maybe Frank and Charlie do have something in common); Sinatra’s only major album release not to crack the Billboard Top 100.

It is however ambitious, and perhaps his most difficult album.

The album is told in two parts with an epilogue.  Part 1 (tracks 1-5) tells the story of the main character’s disbelief in his wife leaving.  Part 2 (tracks 6-10) and tells of that person’s ultimate desperation.  A bonus track ‘Lady Day‘  tells the story of his wife leaving Watertown for the city.  Constructed as a series of brief lyrical snapshots that read like letters, the culminating effect of the songs is an atmosphere of loneliness, but it is a loneliness without much hope or romance.  Essentially, it is the sound of a broken man.

For example:

“John Henry came to cut the lawn again he asked me ‘where you’d gone’ Can’t tell you all the times he’s been told– But he’s so old…”

And Sinatra’s voice almost cracks with anguish.

I Would Be In Love Anyway‘  is equally sad and compelling.

Luckily, there is nobody here today at Corporate Hell to see me get all melancholy and misty-eyed.

With the exception of a few bootleg performances by the Rat Pack I own, I do not profess to be a great lover of “The Chairman of the Board” but this album is different in that it is quite beautiful.  Sinatra gives a wonderful performance, drawing out every emotion from the lyrics, giving the album’s character depth.  It’s certainly one of the all time great (and underrated) Sinatra albums.

(Edited: 11/13/16)

Just as I was about giving up faith that I’d ever find it, low and behold, there it was at the St. Catharines Record Fair.  Brand new, still in the same shrink-wrapped cellophane wrapper just as it was marketed back in 1972; probably ion the aisles at Woolworth or something.  It’s in absolute pristine condition complete with the original poster of the “Chairman of the Board” inside and everything.

Better than I could ever have hoped for.

Depressing evening at home – HERE I COME!

(Edited: 01/12/18)

The winter storm is taking hold outside, so while Kelly works on our dinner of home made panzarotti’s, we’re listening to my choice for Day 25 of our “31 Day Record Challenge“, ‘A record that tells a story from beginning to end, or a “Concept Album”…


About crazytigerrabbitman

I am a fat guy and always will be in the same way they say that “once an alcoholic; always an alcoholic”. Eventually I got upset about my poor health and ballooning body frame so I decided to change things for the better. Some people sign up for Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, or whatever fad diet program it is that happens to be occupying the majority of air time on the boob tube. Other people prefer to run out and purchase the latest, fold away, piece of shit being hawked by some celebrity has-been. Me? I decided to take up triathlon. I had abused my body over the years with bacon cheeseburgers, pints of beer and double-dipped donuts, and the time had now come to abuse my body with physical exertion, perseverance and hard work instead; penitence in it's purest form. The time had come to kick my ass. I am Terry Nash and I am the “fat and the furious”.
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