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It wasn’t until my family’s first eight-hour road trip to New York that I heard his voice. I was a dramatic and impatient 9-year-old sitting miserably in the backseat, on the way to visit my sister at Syracuse University. My walkman batteries had died, and I had no choice but to listen to my parents’ music.
To be honest, when I first heard the voice of Frank Sinatra, I felt nothing but complete annoyance and could not believe my parents could actually stand listening to “old people music.”
A couple of years later, I had my first little kid heartbreak. Of course to me it felt like it was the end of the world, and I didn’t know how I would ever survive. For some reason, whatever it was, I recalled a song from my parent’s Frank Sinatra album, “Send in the Clowns.” When no one was around, I rifled through my parents’ collection of old people music, snatched the CD, put it into my stereo, found the song and pressed play. I sat there with a heavy feeling of heartache mixed with a sudden feeling of relief as I pressed repeat and let the easiness of his voice melt away the face of the boy who broke my little heart.
That is exactly what gave Frank Sinatra the nickname “The Voice.” When the public’s ears first got a hold of Sinatra’s passionate, melodious voice in love songs of the early ’40s, he became an instant hit.
It wasn’t just because of his outstanding voice that came with ease, or his great stage presence full of wit and charm. It was because when he sang, he filled up every inch of his heart with pure emotion. You can hear it in the raspiness that his voice sometimes reached, when the song spoke of loneliness and pain, such as “Wee Small Hours in the Morning.” If you listen carefully, you can almost hear him smiling when he sang of finding love and living life, like “Come Fly with Me.”
Sinatra once made a remark in an interview regarding the intimacy he felt with each song he sang. “Throughout my career, if I have done anything, I have paid attention to every note and every word I sing — I respect the song. If I cannot project this to a listener, I fail.”
Frank Sinatra was a rare jewel. When Sinatra performed, 99 percent of the time he would just sit on a stool under dim lights, with a microphone in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Sitting there, he would completely pull down the fourth wall, showing the audience just how committed and true he was to each word. He could have an entire audience clinging to every single word he sang. He made each listener fall in love the moment he let out his first note.
Nowadays, it is close to impossible to find anything close to the talent Frank Sinatra had rushing through his veins. With this generation, we have artists such as Lady GaGa, Brittany Spears or Kanye West, who I am sure have some degree of talent, but it is hard to recognize underneath all of the glitter. When they perform, they use millions of dollars worth of lights, dancing, ridiculous costume changes, etc. Their lyrics are hidden under dramatic, auto-tuned voices and techno beats.
I understand that times are changing, but is this what our generation has come to? Are we so focused on appearance and pizzaz that we forget what music is supposed to be?
Although the style of Sinatra’s music is dying away, his voice will remain as the most beautiful, pure and passion-filled voice ever to be heard. Sinatra holds a tremendous place in my heart, and we should never allow ourselves to forget about the true meaning of music, even with all this technology we have. I just hope someday people will realize music is not about how it looks, but how it feels.
“I wish that one of these days somebody would learn to do my art so it doesn’t die where it is.”
- Frank “The Voice” Sinatra
Bangor Daily News