A MAN ALONE
By Antonio Baile
On one occasion I read a phrase with a message in which he invited us not to embark on problems, fears, uncertainties, because they never reached our tragic expectations. If we had not martyred ourselves with all the problems that we have worried about from today onwards, we would have been happier.
I am not in an excessively happy stage and, although age teaches us to carry the weights with the backpack of experience, there is no shortage of moments of reflection that lead us to tears, pain and questions… And the small worlds that They carry us and navigate us, those that form our circumstances, now they drown me and I know that tomorrow they will be just another anecdote of a conventional life…
Since I was a child, since my first Sinatra album, the one my grandmother Andresa gave me, I have always had room for him, for his Voice. The indescribable and magical magnet that cradles me when I suffer, smiles at me when I enjoy and drives me crazy when I am exalted.
It would be impossible to list the songs that Frank has sung to me at every moment, to place them in each circumstance and there would be an extensive book with the detail of each “being”, of each “being”, he and I, in the usual chair, always enjoying …
If you want to cry, his Voice helps you by pumping, if you want to smile, he pulls your cheeks and, if you want to celebrate, he lifts your legs and you dance, sing, snap your fingers and invent the most impossible tap dance steps to repeat…
“A Man Alone: The Words and Music of McKuen” is a must-have for any Sinatra collector. Arranged by Don Costa and released in 1969. Conceived as a form of tribute to the poet, all the songs on this album were written and composed by Rod McKuen. The album that helps to cry, to laugh between sobs, to remember, to implore and, at the same time, to continue worshiping a Voice that welcomes all musical genres, all circumstances… and has the ability to accompany us to live with them.
My flirtations with this LP are always preceded by stages of storms and it is a refuge, a board, an anesthesia… He appears sitting next to me, on a bench somewhere, singing until the tears dry and, sometimes, They even manage to make you smile. And, when everything passes, the live shows with Count Basie, the concerts at Madison, and “I will fly to the moon” will bring me out of the shadows again…
Thank you for your melody, in your Voice, for the magnetism, of your Voice, for your messages, with your Voice.
Thank you again, Frank, thank you for your company, the “lullaby” that rocks the incomprehensible knocks and puts them to sleep all the time I listen to you…
Thank you because I never find how to explain why that Voice lives in my memory as one of my loved ones.
…
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