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No, not that one. We don’t need another version of the Sinatra classic being murdered, although if Fred Abong were to do it, I’m sure it would reside in the upper echelons of the myriad takes on the song. No, this is Fred doing what he does so well – intimate and isolated, downbeat acoustica, a style he has made all his own.
And it works so well for him, as “My Way” neatly shows, because he never wallows in the dourness of the style, never succumbs to the darkness, instead he uses those shades and shadows as a backdrop to better illuminate his music. Lesser folk would overegg the melancholia or make the overall vibe too dark and standoffish. Fred is smarter than that.
Instead, he has developed a clever blend of understated chamber-pop meets anti-folk, a platform that serves him well as he talks about his life, love, marriage, thoughts, and feelings. And if there is a connection to the crooner classic, it is to the original French version, which is more soul-searching and insular than the strident sentiments found in its more famous form.
A neat slice of a lyrical understatement to match the reserved sonics that these themes sit on, a great song, and a perfect example of the brilliant restraint that Fred makes the hallmark of his music. Why shout from the rooftops when you can whisper in the listener’s ear? It’s an intelligent approach, one that certainly gets my votes.
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