Frank Sinatra: Watertown (1970)
Upon it's release on Reprise in 1970, popular Hobokum crooner Francis Albert Sinatra's soft-rock LP Watertown resolutely failed to 'do business', and has since been neglected entirely by all but a clutch of hardcore enthusiasts worldwide. 'Enthusiast' may be underselling the typical Watertown devotee. Watertown nuts are singular in their passion for the cause, and unrelenting in their efforts to have the rest of the world wake up to what they hold to be the most inexplicably unappreciated pop album made by a mainstream artist of Sinatra's stature. Watertown nuts stare at the recent Legacy Recordings Deluxe 2CD Blockbuster Forgotten Masterpiece Reissue of Dennis Wilson's 'Pacific Ocean Blue' and weep - 'when will it be our turn? When will Watertown get this treatment, this respect, this amount of press?' Watertown nuts tell everybody they meet about this album because they're so grateful somebody told them about it. I guess this post, and my desire that it turn a few more people onto this wonderful LP, means I'm inducting myself into that fraternity of nuts.
The background / an introduction etc
Subtitled 'A Love Story', Watertown (1970, Reprise) is a soft-rock / easy listening album in the late 60s / early 70s style, broadly comparable to contemporaneous work by Glen Campbell, The Carpenters or Lee Hazelwood. (Before I go any further, if you like any of these artists, Watertown is an absolute must buy. Just quit reading this review right now and go order a copy from whereverthehellhasacopy.com, then come back and carry on reading this while you wait for it to arrive.) Featuring electric guitar, electric bass, vibraphone, RnB-lite drums, harpsichord, strings, a ton of flute and some odd sound FX, soundworld wise, it is undoubtedly Sinatra's most experimental work. I have oft fantasised about the possible existence of some undiscovered breakbeat fuelled psyche Sinatra LP, but - unless some Frankophile wants to prove me wrong, and I very much hope they do - I just don't think such an LP exists. 'Watertown' is as 'rock' as Sinatra ever got, but it would be misleading and reductive to tag it as Sinatra's Rock Album - it is way more interesting than that.
Watertown is explicitly a concept album in the purest sense. Sinatra fans will know that by 1970 their hero was more than familiar with the concept album format, having practically invented it singlehandedly in the 50s with themed works produced for Capital such as 'Songs For Swinging Lovers' and 'In The Wee Small Hours'. It is the sad, spooked ambiance of the latter which the mood of Watertown brings most immediately to mind, though Watertown stretches the possibilities of the concept album much further than anything attempted elsewhere in Sinatra's back cat. Watertown is not simply a collection of songs apiece in theme or spirit, but a collection of songs written specifically to tell a story, a coherent narrative with a beginning, a middle and an end. Compared with the gauche bombast of contemporary progressive rock concept LPs ostensibly attempting a similar feat, Watertown stands as a masterpiece of quiet, finely executed understatement. This isn't Frank Sinatra On Ice
If listening to Watertown is indeed less like listening to a regular LP than it is watching a well crafted movie, there is a very specific reason for this.The key architects of 'Watertown' were lyricist Jake Holmes and composer / producer Bob Gaudio (founding member of The Four Seasons). It was, as they, 'their vision', and interviews with the pair reveal the project to have been very much a collaborative effort. As complete a work as Watertown appears, Holmes and Gaudio originally conceived the Watertown album as just one half of an even broader concept, a concept where the album would have been used as the soundtrack to a Watertown TV special. This special was never made; Sinatra was rightly proud of the album, but was unsatisfied with some of his vocals, and increasingly uninterested in doing TV or movie work. It is tantalising to consider whether the show would have had on Sinatra's career a similar impact to Elvis Presley's comparable '68 Comeback Special had on his, prompting a repositioning of Frank's place in pop history and re-stating his relevance to a new generation of pop fans. What is certain is that the strong narrative structure and detailed imagery that this cinematic concept demanded from its accompanying soundtrack produced a uniquely visual album, where you can 'see' the action as much as hear it.
Much of the album's success as - to use a very late 60s rock term -a 'total experience', hinges on just how detailed and complete a world 'Watertown' itself is presented as. The listener is encouraged to experience Watertown not as a vague fantasy, but as a 'real' town, a town they are visiting for the duration of the LP. The cover art - a pen and ink drawing credited to Ove Olsen - is drawn from the perspective of a train pulling into the small Watertown station. It positions the viewer directly on the tracks, approaching the town. The listener is entering Watertown. In the distance, a steam locomotive almost disappears over the horizon, positioned at the very centre of the image. Our eyes are deliberately drawn to this tiny locomotive at the vanishing point, the focus of the scene. To the left of the scene, stood by the platform, a man stands - apparently - alone, a tiny, solitary figure beneath the 'Watertown' train station sign. It is not clear whether the man has just departed from the train in the distance, or if he is waiting for another train. He has no baggage, and is facing away from the platform. When we open the gate-fold sleeve, we discover that infact he is not alone. Stood some way from the man are two even smaller figures, young children, one taller than the other. We presume the adult male figure is their father, but we wonder why they are not stood with him. We also wonder where the mother is, and if she has departed on the departing train, why - again - the remaining family members have not stood together to wave her off. All in all, it is a most subdued, sad little mise en scene. Watertown itself, as depicted on the back cover, is a desolate place, a ghost town seemingly deserted but for the three fragile figures depicted. There is a sense of something missing, an uncomfortable incompleteness...an emptiness, perhaps. It is not what is there, but what is not there, which gives the scene it's air of sepia melancholy. The sleeve art is crucial to how we visualise Watertown itself, and introduces many of the album's key themes and images.
For his part, Sinatra revels in the opportunity to 'method act' his way through a whole album. Sinatra adopted hundreds of in-song personas throughout his career, but Watertown is easily his most sustained and complex musical character study, perhaps drawing more on his work as a motion-picture actor - specifically his stunning, psychologically heavy performance as Frankie Machine in 'The Man With The Golden Arm' - than his musical career. We never wholly forget we are listening to Sinatra, of course, any more than one truly forgets they're watching John Wayne in 'The Searchers', but it is explicitly the character (hitherto referred to as 'The Man') whose story is being acted out here, not Sinatra's.... though, crucially, elements of The Man's story resonant with events in Sinatra's own life. We are actively discouraged from approaching Watertown as A Frank Sinatra Album; it does not look like a traditional Sinatra album, and his image appears nowhere in the artwork. Instead of a stock glossy Hollywood photo or a 'No One Cares' style portrait-of-the-tortured-artist, Watertown comes housed in a sad, dull little brown etching of a desolate hicksville train station, and resembles a no-budget private-pressing or lo-fi folk album more than it does a work by the world's most successful male vocalist. Brave stuff.
'A Love Story' - comparing critical approaches to the 'Watertown' narrative
Subtitled 'A Love Story', Watertown is ostensibly the simple domestic tale of a family - a mother, father and two young sons - living in a small upstate New York town, told from the father's - The Man's -point of view. Early in the album, the mother - Elizabeth - decides to leave her family and Watertown, departing by train to begin a new life in the big city. Despite references to a possible affair on Elizabeth's part and a lack of communication / emotional understanding on the The Man's part, the separation is not depicted as acrimonious, but rather just very sad. The Man is unable to move on with his life, and struggles from day to day, entirely pre-occupied with thoughts of his lost love. He continues to write to his wife, describing how their children are growing and detailing banal anecdotes of life in Watertown. Towards the end of the album The Man receives a letter from Elizabeth stating that she is coming home, and he is overjoyed at the news. The heartbreaking denouncement to the story is that when The Man goes to meet his wife from the train station, he cannot see her anywhere in the crowd of departing passengers. It slowly becomes clear that she was not on the train, and has not come home. We are left with the image of The Man stood alone at the platform, crushed by this unbearably cruel blow. (I would suggest that it is this image depicted on the sleeve).
What I have outlined above is the 'official' version of the Watertown narrative, the orthodox interpretation of the lyrics as supported by lyricist Jake Holme's own comments about them. (A comprehensive song-by-song explanation of the lyrics by Holmes himself can be read here.) An alternative theory, outlined at Frankosonic, is that the wife does not leave, but infact dies, and the subsequent story is that of a grieving husband succumbing to a sort of delusional madness. This was, I must admit, my own personal interpretation of the album upon first listen...I certainly thought the lyrics were at the very least deliberately ambiguous, and open to individual interpretation.
(It is worth noting here that in other ways the lyrics are remarkably unamiguous and unusually precise for a pop album, almost journalistic, and it is is this friction between the said and the unsaid which provides the album with it's real emotional weight. While the important stuff (ie why Elizabeth left, how The Man really feels about it etc) is largely dealt with in oblique allusion, unimportant, day-to-day stuff is repeatedly described in close-up detail. Watertown itself is sketched vividly and in fine detail, and very close attention is paid to the dull minute of The Man's life there. Given the tortured emotional undercurrent of the album, banalities such as 'I think the house could use some paint' take on a vast significance, they are the choked tick-tock of time standing still in Watertown. Sinatra repeatedly does wonderful, remarkable things with lines like these. The reason the technique is so powerful is that it appears to reflect The Man's own mental state, we sense that he is focusing (in the case of the weather, a recurring theme, almost obsessively) on trivialities, because he cannot stand to deal with the reality, the enormity, of his loss.)
Notes on songs...
SIDE 1
.1. 'Watertown'
The thudding, slightly off-kilter unaccompanied electric bass figure which opens the album has gotta be the weirdest, most unexpected beginning to any Sinatra LP.
The lyrics 'There's someone standing in the rain / waiting for the morning train' - directly pre-empt the final image of the album's last song, ('The Train') - 'I think I see the train / The sun has gone and now my face is wet with heavy rain'. Over the course of 10 tracks, we return to the same point at which we began.
'Watertown' is the only song not written in first person, having the deliberate effect of it feeling somewhat separate to the story that follows. It is intended as a curtain raiser, an introduction by an omniscient third person narrative voice.
I love the almost-funk bass / flute break at the end, and the a steam locomotive sound effect is really cool.
.2. 'Goodbye (She Quietly Says)'
Lyrically characteristic of what is, all in all, a very low key, downbeat tale;
"There is no great big ending / no sunset in the sky / there is no string ensemble / and she doesn't even cry....the world does not stop turning round / there's no big tragedy / sitting in a coffee shop"
These lines can be read as 'Watertown' laying it's cards out on the table; don't expect melodrama, don't expect stock pop cliches, don't expect orchestras and 'big endings'...this is a different type of Sinatra album. Real situations. Real people. Real lives, lived in real places. Not show biz. It's gonna be quiet, and raw, and honest.
.3. 'For A While'
If Sinatra was indeed unsatisfied with his vocal work on the album, one imagines that his almost shockingly hesitant, faltering delivery of the line 'with a laugh, a kind hello' from 'For A While' must have been of particular concern. While the crack in Sinatra's voice is clearly not a deliberate part of his performance, it 'works' within the context of the song, and furthermore is perfectly in-keeping with the album's adoption of late 60s 'rock' recording practises. Using a rough 'n' ready, imperfect take suggests a concern with 'realness', immediacy and rawness, which had become de rigure as psychedelia fatigue began to set in at the turn of the decade. A huge part of the album's charm is how un-slick Sinatra's vocals are.
.4. 'Michael & Peter'
Regarded by many fans as the album's pinnacle, the apex of it's achievements, where the whole Watertown concept is found in fullest flowering, and everything comes together just perfectly. A truly astonishing song, 'it builds from a fragile acoustic / folk guitar lament, to an orchestral / rock epic, has no real chorus to speak of, and is as 'mini pop opera' as anything Brian Wilson ever wrote. Written as a letter / prayer addressed to The Man's wife, the lyrics catalogue The Man's life in Watertown, filling his wife in on what he's been up to since she's been gone, how their sons (the 'Michael and Peter' of the title) are doing. It's just a really impressive, amazingly detailed, brilliantly executed piece of writing. And totally heartbreaking; "I think the house could use some paint / you know your Mother's such a saint / she takes the boys whenever she can.."
The lines "John Henry came to cut the lawn / again he asked me where you'd gone / can't tell you all the times he's been told / but he's so old..." from 'Michael & Peter' are amongst the album's most intriguing vis a vis The Wife Is Dead theory. While the lyric does not explicitly suggest Elizabth has died, it does introduce the concept that one's perception of reality (and specifically the absence of a familiar face') is shaped by one's mental state - if John Henry can forget why the wife is not around due to seniality, it is possible that The Man could mis-remember where his wife is due to a grieving madness of his own.
The little electric vibraphone lick after the line 'All those years I worked for Santa Fe' is really ace.
.5. 'I Would Be In Love (anyway)'
One of Watertown's 'grooviest' tracks, with a great, fluid RnB-lite instrumental track, bubbling bass, a buncha flute. All very Wichita Lineman.
Contains very strong lyrical evidence in the case for The Wife Is Dead theory; "though you'll never be with me / and there are no words to say / I'll still be in love anyway".
Sinatra's explosive delivery of the first 'If I knew then / what I know now' is awesome, in the purest sense, it erupts from nowhere, this speaker-blowing, defiant Voice Of God BOOM. It's just so damn loud, and so honest, and...aw, if anybody every doubts why Sinatra was the boss, just play 'em this. It's ridiculous. Probably my favourite moment on the LP.
SIDE 2
.1. 'Elizabeth'
This is the first time the wife is named.
Beginning with the album's most 'psychedelic' passage, a watercolour wash of woodwind and looping electric guitar, 'Elizabeth' trades in dream imagery ("dressed in dreams for me / you were what I wished to see"), and can indeed be understood as the album's mid-story 'dream sequence'. It is a Disney-esque fantasia, wherein The Man describes his wife as being almost otherwordly - "you were all too much, out of reach out of touch". It suggests again that there is question mark hanging over The Man's grasp on reality, and states explicitly that he is given to mentally re-writing history, as exemplified in closing lines "dressed in memories / you are what you used to be." The themes of pretence, make-believe, and the subjectivity of 'reality' occur throughout the album.
.2. 'What A Funny Girl (you used to be)'
The hazy nostalgia continues, as The Man daydreams about the very early days of his relationship with Elizabeth. Jake Holmes has said that the lyric "we'd spend each night with company / just you the teddybears the dolls and me" is meant to suggest that The Man and Elizabeth were childhood sweethearts. For the purposes of our analysis, this personification of Elizabeth's toys is another example of 'make believe'.
I really love the lines "always some new recipe / the kitchen always looked like world war three".
.3. 'What's Now Is Now'
Another slice of RnB-lite orchestral pop, packing some pretty thumping drums. 'What's Now Is Now' is the track which most explicitly deals with the 'wife had an affair' element of the back-story. Though not as stylised as 'Michael & Peter,' the lyric is addressed directly to Elizabeth, and can be read as a letter. The Man assures Elizabeth of his complete forgiveness and understanding ("I'll forget what happened then, I know it all and we can begin again"), as he has throughout the album.
The lyric "if the doubting faces made you go / it's only mine that matters now / those looks will soon begin to fade / if you can come back and show them all / you're not afraid," places Watertown within a tradition of US litertaure - exemplified by Nathanial Hawthorne's 'The Scarlet Letter' - which deals with the shame and guilt poured on adulterous women in rural Puritan societies. If one wished to take this analysis further, it could be argued that this in turn places 'Watertown' within a traditional Christian narrative of sin leading to suffering and expulsion, a la Adam and Eve's ejection from the Garden Of Edan.
.4. 'She Says'
Surely the weirdest thing Sinatra ever recorded - again, if a real Frankophile want's to put me straight, I'd love to hear from them. 'She Says' is one minute fifty seconds of minor key, bad-drugs oddness. Features a strange echoing clicking noise and - get this - a really spooky, disembodied childrens choir. If this doesn't suggest some sort of psychosis I don't know what does.
Lyrically, 'She Says' has The Man describing what he has learnt of Elizabeth's new life from a letter she has sent him, and ends with the revelation that she is coming home. Contains the fourth (of six) use of the word 'rain', the album's most frequent recurring motif. This obsessive focus on the weather is more important for the way it is used to avoid discussion of painful emotions than it is as a symbolic device.
.5. 'The Train'
And now, the end is near...so, The Man hot foots it down to train station, it's a sunny day, and he's real excited 'cos Elizabeth is coming home, and he's going to make amends for not understanding her needs etc and they're gonna be together forever this time... at least that's what he thinks. As the sunshine turns to rain, and the departing passengers leave the platform, he begins to realise that she wasn't on the train, and has not infact returned to him. This is the album's final image, and - I would argue - the image depicted on the front cover.
Driven along by twinkling harpsichord, 'The Train' is a quintessentially late 60s easy-listening groove, cantering along at a sprightly lick reflective of the (initially) upbeat mood. As is appropriate for the album's final track, it sums up much of what is unique and fascinating about 'Watertown'. Lyrically it has much of the detailed, conversational tone found elsewhere - "The train is leaving Ellensville / unless my watch is fast / The kids are coming home from school, it must be quarter past", and contains the lines which constitute the strongest evidence for The Wife Is Dead theory:
"And there's so many things / I wrote so many times and more / But the letters still are lying in my drawer."
I think it is fair to say that the image of unsent letters piling up in a drawer is much more suggestive of a death than it is a separation. Until this final-chapter revelation we have been given every reason to presume The Man has sent the letters he has written, and it is quite a twist to discover that he hasn't. Moreover, she doesn't come back. If we accept that Elizabeth isn't dead, then we are left simply to presume that (a)she just changed her mind for some reason which is left unexplained, or that (b) the letter mentioned in 'She Says' was simply a figment of The Man's imagination. The former is unsatisfying and unsympathetic with the rest of the story, the latter suggests madness on The Man's part, the third option is that Elizabeth is dead which, suggests even greater torment and madness on The Man's part. It's a horribly down-beat ending however you read it.
Conclusion
In the final analysis, perhaps it does not matter whether we decide the wife has died, or she's just gone away. Either way, the album is about the same thing: loss. It's about a man grieving the absense of his wife, and not coping. Many months ago I wrote a piece for Electric Roulette entitled A Beginners Guide To Seventies Divorce Music, detailing a particular type of soft-rock popular in that decade, and it's function as the wallpaper soundtrack to the era's sky-rocketing divorce rate. I think in 'Watertown' I have found the genre's purest expression. Frank Sinatra was a man defined by his break-ups. He was all about divorce. His separation from Eva Gardner in the 50s led to stone-cold grief-fest classics like 'In The Wee Small Hours' and 'No One Cares', and here, his performance is crucially informed by his 1968 divorce from Mia Farrow. (A quick Google reveals that 'Watertown' was not the only D.I.V.O.R.C.E classic inspired by Mia Farrow; Andre Previn wrote 'Beware of Young Girls' after his divorce from Farrow in 1979.) Watertown is an adult album, dealing with big, complex themes, in a mature manner. Musically it may be his most 'pop' album, but it is never light-weight or disposable. Few albums demand the sort of analysis I have attempted here, but I could write a whole book on this one. I hope that this article has encouraged you to visit Watertown sometime soon.
Paul Fuzz
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What a great read, I'd never heard of this album before but I will certainly be looking for it now. Excellent stuff Paul.
Posted by: Barry M | 09/26/2008 at 09:15 AM
Thanks for the great article. I first picked up this LP in the early 80's and now have three vinyl copies.
The U.S copy is best as it has an embossed inner gatefold with a lot more detail than the UK copy and a large poster.
Posted by: Pete Downs | 09/27/2008 at 09:58 PM
Wonderful article on one of my favorite albums. I have added a link over at Moon in the Gutter for you.
Posted by: Jeremy | 10/13/2008 at 01:39 AM
Thank you very very much for yor essay. After listening "Genuine Imitation of Life" I was waiting for an album like this, and you made me look for it. I´m listening now and is....simply wonderful...Thanks again..
Posted by: letsmakeitboys | 12/13/2008 at 07:20 PM
I've been listening to 'Watertown" since it was released. How good it would have been to have that TV special that never was, on DVD. Too bad because I believe it would have been fantastic. Also, the song "Lady Day" is included on the CD version of "Watertown". Frank recorded two versions. It lends more food for thought as to weather the wife has passed away or not as you discussed. Thanks for a fine review of "Watertown"
Posted by: Harold | 12/01/2009 at 02:59 AM
If I may add, there was speculation that Sinatra dedicated the second recorded version of "Lady Day" in memory of Jazz singer Billie Holiday. According to Sinatra's former valet Frank was very saddened by the way she died."Lady Day" was not added to "Watertown" until the second release. Also, the Watertown on vinyl has better sound qualty than the CD for some reason.
Posted by: Harold | 12/01/2009 at 03:38 AM
I bought the album just after release in uk,and loved every track,about ten years ago i aquired the cd with lady day as bonus track,but to me as others have suggested it does not seem to fit,but its still sinatra,and i love it ,just want to add i thought i was alone till i read your article,thanks youve made my day.
Posted by: peter ryan | 02/21/2010 at 01:06 PM