Did you know that My Way, the song made famous by Frank Sinatra, is an English adaptation of the 1968, French, song Comme d’habitude (made famous in the francosphere by Claude François)? I’m going to spend this post trying to convince you that the French version is better.
Apologies for the bad video quality but I want you to see this man’s incredibly 60s haircut.
If you don’t care about my inconsequential dislike for My Way you can skip this first paragraph.
Frank Sinatra’s My Way is an absolute classic. The instrumental has this driving energy to it and a sort of triumphant melancholy that I feel like isn’t heard a lot in pop. Sinatra’s voice is also fantastic. But, I’ve always felt a bit thrown off by the lyrics. Firstly, the experience of reminiscing on your death bed is relatable to basically nobody by definition, which makes it hard for me to put myself in the shoes of the song’s subject. But more importantly, the lyrics preach this sort of ethos of individualism as a goal into itself which I really dislike. They seem to suggest that as long as one does “it” “their way” one has succeeded, regardless of what “it” was. It’s vague, I guess, so that any arbitrary listener can slot themselves and their goals in to the shoes of the narrator. Like, whatever you’re doing, as long as you aren’t a “kneeling” conformist, you’re winning at life! But - you can’t just live only for yourself. You aught to care about the people close to you, and their wants and needs, right? I can’t help but hear “I did it my way” like some sort of weird euphemism, like the song’s subject is on his death bed going off about how in life he really managed to own the libs by yelling about LGBTQ people on the internet. Like he “said the thing he truly feels” and didn’t kowtow to the liberal agenda, or something. Maybe the subject wasn’t being a non-conformist for any good reason, he’s just sugar-coating being a stubborn asshole? Then at the end, for how powerfully
For what is a man? What has he got? If not himself, then he has naught.
hits you, it tethers this hyper-individualism to masculinity, like you aren’t a real man if you don’t have your own “way” to “do it” and ever fail to adhere to your own individual ethos. It’s all very Randian, not to mention self-congratulatory. And since individual people don’t tend to be on their death bed very often, the only point of that framing that I can think of is to make you consider your own death and go, “when I die, I want to die like that.” The instrumental tugs at you the same way, its slow crescendo trying to get you to be both sad that the subject is dying and sympathize with his pride and accomplishment. The instrumental is really great, but it feels like I’m being manipulated into feeling a way that I really just don’t. I don’t want to put you off if My Way is your favorite song, but this is what I get out of it, and I wish I didn’t, because the music itself is fantastic, and Frank Sinatra’s vocal performance is fantastic as well.
LUCKILY FOR ME there are in fact other lyrics! My Way was based on the French song Comme d’habitude, popularized by French pop star Claude François (possibly the Frenchest name of all time). Go listen to the link up top if you haven’t already - I discovered it earlier this year and it went straight on my general-purpose playlist. The instrumental of Comme d’habitude is basically identical to that in My Way, but the lyrics are entirely different (beyond being in French), both in theme and structure. They deal with the slow decay of a relationship, and falling out of love and having to act like everything is fine even as you and your partner drift further and further apart. A lot more (alive) people have gone through this experience than have reminisced on their death bed. It’s a lot easier to relate to the just sort of rust of this feeling; nothing has really abruptly changed, things have just stagnated, and the monotonous passage of time is chipping away at you. François’ repeated lament of “comme d’habitude” (“as usual”) lends the lyrics this cynicism and give you the sense of the passage of time at hand. The instrumental, here in its original, purpose-made context, further contributes to the cynical tone, there’s almost this like emotional dissonance where, despite the major key of the subject’s life and the fanfares of the trumpets, he just can’t bring himself to be happy in his relationship or even do anything to end it. François really puts some stank on some of the final lines as well which I appreciate. His voice takes the song through stages of resignation, to despair, and finally to desperate anger. I don’t know why I like this sort of everyday sadness in my content, where, like, nothing overtly terrible has happened, it’s just the passage of time has taken its toll and life didn’t play out as expected. I find it very cathartic and I want it injected straight into my veins.
The history of these two songs is pretty interesting, and here I’ll synthesize the songs’ wikipedia articles for you. Claude François first recorded and released the song in 1968, at which point it got very popular in France. There was an initiative to craft an English-language version right off the bat in that year, with David Bowie being one of many who were conscripted to write potential alternative lyrics. None of those went anywhere, but in 1969 songwriter Paul Anka heard Comme d’habitude on French TV and bought the rights to the music. Crucially, he did not buy the rights to the lyrics, which is why the two songs are so thematically different. My Way is not a copy or rip-off or English-version of Comme d’habitude, they are two songs that share the same tune. Anka wrote the lyrics for My Way specifically for Frank Sinatra and then it became Sinatra’s most well-known song. It just kills me, though, that My Way is so different, because I feel like you could do a reasonable translation of Comme d’habitude into English that preserved at least the general themes and meter of the original. English and French aren’t so different that they can’t describe the same concepts in similar amounts of syllables, surely. So, I tried doing this myself, ft. MetroLyrics, Google Translate, and what French knowledge I’ve managed to retain. I think a professional, bilingual songwriter could probably do a better job, but I did this in like a half-hour and you can at least sing the lyrics to the tune and they more-or-less fit fine. A couple of notes:
- I went with “just like always” instead of “as usual” because it’s more or less the same sentiment and it better fits the meter. Maybe “just as usual” would be better? Do people say that? I feel like “always” implies some degree of, like, eternity and immutability, whereas “usual” better matches the vibe that this is a routine that has developed.
- If it sounds like this man’s partner is just straight up dead at the beginning and he lives with a corpse in his house all the time… maybe the French is more unambiguous, but as far as I can tell the French lyrics are like this too.
- The phrase “all day I play pretend” is way more verbose in French for whatever reason, but that was the worst instance of having to stretch something out to fit the meter. In English you could save enough space to fit a whole extra idea in there.
- Doing this exercise made me realize: man these lyrics are sad, dang.
Hope you enjoy:
| Original French | My English Adaptation |
|---|---|
Je me lève / et je te bouscule
Tu ne te réveilles pas
comme d'habitude
Sur toi / je remonte le drap
J'ai peur que tu aies froid
comme d'habitude
Ma main / caresse tes cheveux
Presque malgré moi
comme d'habitude
Mais toi / tu me tournes le dos
Comme d'habitude
Alors / je m'habille très vite
Je sors de la chambre
comme d'habitude
Tout seul / je bois mon café
Je suis en retard
comme d'habitude
Sans bruit / je quitte la maison
Tout est gris dehors
comme d'habitude
J'ai froid / je relève mon col
Comme d'habitude
Comme d'habitude / toute la journée
Je vais jouer à faire semblant
Comme d'habitude / je vais sourire
Comme d'habitude / je vais même rire
Comme d'habitude / enfin je vais vivre
Comme d'habitude
Et puis / le jour s'en ira
Moi je reviendrai
comme d'habitude
Toi / tu seras sortie
Pas encore rentrée
comme d'habitude
Tout seul / j'irai me coucher
Dans ce grand lit froid
comme d'habitude
Mes larmes / je les cacherai
Comme d'habitude
Comme d'habitude, même la nuit
Je vais jouer à faire semblant
Comme d'habitude / tu rentreras
Comme d'habitude / je t'attendrai
Comme d'habitude / tu me souriras
Comme d'habitude
Comme d'habitude / tu te déshabilleras
Comme d'habitude / tu te coucheras
Comme d'habitude / on s'embrassera
Comme d'habitude
|
I wake / and shake your arm
You don't wake up
just like always
I cover / you with the sheet
Afraid you'll be cold
just like always
My hand / runs through your hair
Almost in spite of me
just like always
But you / you turn your back
just like always
Then I / rush to get dressed
I leave the room
just like always
I drink / coffee alone
I'm running late
just like always
No sound / I leave the house
Outside, the sky is grey
just like always
I'm cold / Huddled in my coat
just like always
Just like always, throughout the day
I've got to try to play pretend
Just like always, I'm going to smile
Just like always, I might even laugh
Just like always, finally, I'll live
Just like always
And then / the day will end
I'll come back home
just like always
And you / well, you'll be gone
And not come back
just like always
Alone / I'll go to sleep
In this big, cold bed
just like always
My tears / I'll try to hide
just like always
Just like always, even at night
I've got to try to play pretend
Just like always, you come back home
Just like always, I'm there, waiting
Just like always, you smile at me
Just like always
Just like always, you'll get undressed
Just like always, you come to bed
Just like always, we share a kiss
Just like always
|