The other day I was taking the Amtrak train from Southern Connecticut to New York City. When I saw the skyline I instantly thought of Frank Sinatra singing “New York, New York.”
Here’s what I don’t get about that song. There’s a line where Ol’ Blue Eyes says “If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere.” But that doesn’t make sense when you stop and really think about it. New York City in the Fifties had millions of people. These folks had lots of disposable income and were highly interested in the arts, even lounge-style singing.
So NYC was very friendly turf for Sinatra. But picture Frank attempting to pull off the same thing starting in, say, Anchorage. Trying to hit the big time singing to a bunch of fishermen in hip-waders who couldn’t give a damn about art, except maybe velvet paintings of landscapes? Being accompanied onstage by a stuffed animal head? That’s a challenge I could believe in. If Frank had claimed that making it in Anchorage meant he could make it anywhere, I’d buy it. But not New York.
I like Sinatra and New York City. I’m not dissing either. But there’s something fishy about that (awesome) song.
Actually, you CAN make it in Anchorage and be a local celebrity.
The only problem is that nobody outside of the immediate Anchorage area will know or care.
That’s the catch!
I’m sure Franky would have hated it but Cat Power does a really interesting cover of New York, New York. Check it out if you get a mo.
That is a really good point that makes me want to try just a little harder where I live. We have a kitchy coffee shop that is never open on Sundays, and a fabulous sushi restaurant that not only shuts down for three hours in the afternoon, but also wraps up their business by 9pm. I think I live in Lindenhurst…home of the perpetual siesta.