Leave the great indoorsnotes on the journey

Last week Bono wrote an Op-Ed for the New York Times entitled Notes From the Chairman.  I’ve always found Bono to be a surprisingly good writer, and this article is no exception.  He reflects on the year that is gone, the times to come, and what it means to be here, now, alive in the turmoil and excitement that is 2009.

He also writes about Frank Sinatra, who I must confess is not my particular brand of vodka.  But I do recognize his talent and respect his immense influence on music over the years.  And it’s hard to disagree with Bono as he points out the almost eery relevance of a 1963 recording of My Way:

There’s a voice on the speakers that wakes everyone out of the moment: it’s Frank Sinatra singing “My Way.” His ode to defiance is four decades old this year and everyone sings along for a lifetime of reasons. I am struck by the one quality his voice lacks: Sentimentality.

Is this knotted fist of a voice a clue to the next year? In the midst of uncertainty in your business life, your love life, your life life, why is Sinatra’s voice such a foghorn — such confidence in nervous times allowing you romance but knocking your rose-tinted glasses off your nose, if you get too carried away.

A call to believability.

A voice that says, “Don’t lie to me now.”

That says, “Baby, if there’s someone else, tell me now.”

Fabulous, not fabulist. Honesty to hang your hat on.

As the year rolls over, the emotion in the room tussles between hope and fear, expectation and trepidation. Wherever you end up, his voice takes you by the hand.

I’ve sensed for some time now what I think is probably a slow end to post-modern thinking.  A rejection of relativism, and a renewed sense of longing for truth and authenticity in our lives.  I agree with Bono here – this is is probably what 2009 will bring us.

Bono continues to discuss a relatively obscure recording of One for My Baby (and One More for the Road), off the 1993 Duets album, and what happens when a voice allows itself to be brutally honest:

If you want to hear the least sentimental voice in the history of pop music finally crack, though — shhhh — find the version of Frank’s ode to insomnia, “One for My Baby (and One More for the Road),” hidden on “Duets.” Listen through to the end and you will hear the great man break as he truly sobs on the line, “It’s a long, long, long road.” I kid you not.

Like Bob Dylan’s, Nina Simone’s, Pavarotti’s, Sinatra’s voice is improved by age, by years spent fermenting in cracked and whiskeyed oak barrels. As a communicator, hitting the notes is only part of the story, of course.

It was difficult to find this version of the song, but I finally tracked it down – you can listen to it below.  And even though I’m still pretty certain that it’s not the type of music I like to listen to, the emotion is amazing and real and touching.  Follow Bono’s advice and listen all the way to the end…

One for My Baby (and One More for the Road) by Frank Sinatra: