So, There's Never Been a Song Like "My Way" (and There Probably Never Will Be Again).

In 1953, Frank Sinatra signed a seven-year deal with Capitol Records.
In 1954, Sinatra won his first and second Academy Awards.
Later that year, he won his first Golden Globe.
Over the next five years, Sinatra would go on to receive another Golden Globe, two more Academy Awards, four NME Awards, and four Grammys (the music award that began in 1958).

Between 1954 and 1959, he would also release eight of the greatest albums to date: Songs For Young Lovers/Swing Easy! ('54), In the Wee Small Hours ('55), Songs for Swingin' Lovers! ('56), A Swingin' Affair! ('57), Where Are You? ('57), Frank Sinatra Sings for Only the Lonely ('58), Come Fly With Me ('58), and No One Cares ('59).

By 1959, the only musician who could hold a light to Sinatra was Elvis. And even then, Frank had held the reins for a lot longer than the young rocker. The 1960s were a honeymoon period after Sinatra's renaissance. His deal with Capitol Records fell apart. He went on to release a string of his own number one hits and continue to climb the social ladder. Frank helped get Kennedy elected, and then by 1964, he himself was under investigation by Bobby Kennedy, the Attorney General, for his ties to the Mafia. He was, as Gay Talese would famously call him in his 1965 Esquire piece "Frank Sinatra Has a Cold," Il Padrone. 

Sinatra was unstoppable. While Dylan was blowing up on the folk scene, Johnny was playing prisons, and the Beatles were leading a transatlantic invasion, Sinatra was sitting back in a bar, drinking, smoking. He was charming. Frank always remembered everyone's name. He dressed impeccably. He demanded the same of those around him. Sinatra may not have been the actual Godfather but he was damn close. Sinatra epitomized class. And yet he could fly off the handle faster than Myles Garrett.

(Quick aside: Can we talk about the Myles Garrett-Mason Rudolph brawl?? If you don't know what I'm referencing, watch this:



That man hit Mason Rudolph in the fucking head with a football helmet! Rudolph, who is just as guilty for provoking Garrett, is lucky to be alive. If that had been the hard side of the helmet, I'm sure Rudolph's head would have cracked wide open on national television. Both of them should be suspended for the rest of the season, and had things gone worse - had the helmet been turned the other way - Garrett should be in prison. Anyway, I digress. Back to Sinatra...)

Frank was known for a lot of things, one of which was notably his mood swings. He would often use his social and economic power to bend situations to his will, and when those situations or the people involved didn't bend, he'd fly into a rage. By the mid-60s, the entire entertainment industry revolved around Sinatra and Sinatra's attitude, and it was resolved that that's just the way things were.

Jump four years after Talese's famous profile of Sinatra, and something incredible happened, not just to the man of Sinatra, and not just to the world of music, but to the legacy of Sinatra. Before going out to celebrate New Year's Eve in Vegas, Sinatra stepped into a recording booth and churned out what would become the greatest song of his career: "My Way."

1969 can be remembered for a lot of musical moments. The collapse of the Beatles. Woodstock. The real birth of progressive rock. And yet, one of the most underrated moments from the best year in music history was the simple release of "My Way," because it changed the way the world looked at Frank Sinatra, and it forever changed his legacy. Fifteen years after his revival and prime began, ten years after his peak, and five years after a federal investigation into his personal life, Sinatra rewrote the script for the biggest voice in American musical history.

"And now the end is near
And so I face the final curtain..."

"My Way" became Sinatra's signature song. He couldn't play a show without performing it, and he hated that. Much like Nirvana with their signature song - it was his "Smells Like Teen Spirit." Except "Smells Like Teen Spirit" made Nirvana famous. Imagine if they got famous at the same time, but didn't release "Smells Like Teen Spirit" until 2005. That's the equivalent of "My Way."

It's "Piano Man" in 1988 instead of 1973.
It's "Wonderwall" in 2010 instead of 1995.
It's "Happy" in 2028 instead of 2013.

That's never happened. There has never been a star as famous as Sinatra who redefined their career and their legacy so late in the game. We've had swan songs and number one hits from artists well after their prime, sure - here's looking at "Empire State of Mind" by Jay-Z. But that's not his signature song. It didn't completely change the way we remember Hov. "My Way," in startling fashion, showed that Sinatra never lost his touch; in fact, he could be better than ever before. His final chapter outshone the rest of the book, and man, it was one hell of a book.

"But through it all, when there was doubt
I ate it up and spit it out..."

Over the last few days, I've scoured the internet, the music libraries, the charts and records, looking for any other example of an artist doing this. It's never happened. I promise. By and large nowadays, artists don't remain as prominent and prolific as Sinatra was. Few stay in the public spotlight, despite their bad behavior and decline in musical career (the exception - Kanye West). We, as a music-loving people, don't often give second, third, or fourth chances. We move on to the next thing. Has 2019 been the year of Lil Nas X or Billie Eilish? It's hard to tell. We move so quickly. Since that fateful release in 1969, there hasn't been a signature song released a decade after an artist's prime.

Elvis didn't do it.
Madonna didn't do it.
Michael didn't do it.
Whitney didn't do it.
No one has done it.

And yet, Sinatra did it. Frank found a way. Fifty years ago, a silver-haired Sinatra stepped out of a recording booth, grinned, and sent a vinyl off to do the impossible.

"The record shows I took the blows
And did it..."