Some songs he barely inhabits; others he makes sound like they were written just for him.
Frankly Sentimental arrived in 1949 as a collection of eight ballads recorded across 1946 and 1947, arranged and conducted by Axel Stordahl. By this point in Sinatra's career, he had already moved past the bobby-soxer hysteria of his earlier years and was settling into the role of a vocalist who could inhabit a sad song. This album showcases that transition, though not always smoothly.
The reception was mixed in ways that tell you something real about what's here. John Riley in The Boston Globe heard a vocalist who sometimes seemed bored—particularly on "Body and Soul," where Sinatra "wades through as though it were a demanding chore." But Riley also noted that in other moments, that same quiet simplicity actually worked, deepening the song instead of undermining it. Harold Ober from the Asbury Park Press came away convinced that these familiar tunes were "sung in Sinatra's best style." The Springfield Sunday Republican felt the material was so perfectly suited to the vocalist that each number "might have been written expressly" for him. What you're hearing is a performer who could move the needle in opposite directions depending on the song—and sometimes on the day.
This isn't the place to start with Sinatra. It's not a failure, exactly, but it's uneven in ways that matter. Some tracks land with genuine feeling; others drift past like background music at a hotel bar. The album works best if you come to it already knowing his voice well, already comfortable enough with Sinatra that you can hear the difference between him engaged and him going through the motions. Stordahl's arrangements are polished and present, never intrusive, which means everything depends on what the singer brings. On Frankly Sentimental, he doesn't always bring the same thing twice.