It was about 10 years ago that I was rummaging through the Sinatra section at a record store, being a baby boom era rocker, it took Frank's death to finally get me to decide I needed to listen to him to see what all the praise was about. I was looking to start buying a few CDs a year, mainly the upbeat stuff. Seemingly out of nowhere a woman in a leather coat, accompanied by a male friend, plucked a copy of Only the Lonely out of the rack and handed it to me, saying, "this is the one you have to listen to". She had a very serious look on her face, I was taken aback, but thanked her and purchased it. At first I only liked Angel Eyes and One for My Baby, my rocker ears had not yet acclimated enough to the Tin Pan Alley beat in order to be able to appreciate the other songs. But over the years the pure genius of this record started to pull at me. It was on those dark lonely nights when only Frank seemed to offer any solace that I would listen to it in amazement. Now I realize that this album is the singularly most devastating, powerful and beautiful piece of vocal pop music every put to vinyl, period. Thank you woman in the leather coat.
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