Frankie Vinyl Record Memories

Another great tissue worthy ballad about lost love, Frankie vinyl record memories return to 1959, more than sixty years after the song "Frankie" was originally penned by Neil Sedaka and Howard Greenfield.

At the time Connie was determined to have a double-sided hit and approached the songwriters with the idea to make the song about one of the hottest teen idols of the time, Frankie Avalon.

In a 1991 interview with DisCoveries Magazine, Greenfield asks Connie how should the song be written, "Happy or Sad?" Connie replied, "Always sad, Howie, you know that teenage girls love to cry."

In the song, Francis is trying to hide her heartbreak after Frankie breaks up with her. It would end up on the B-side of her 1959 hit "Lipstick on Your Collar" that finished at #5 on Hot 100 list.

"Frankie" also became a Top Ten hit in the US finishing at #9 making the "Lipstick on Your Collar"/"Frankie" the single most successful double-sided hit of her career. In the New York area it was even bigger than Lipstick on Your Collar.

At the session, record producer and conductor, Ray Ellis is in the control room. As soon as the guitar introduction began, Connie just up and said, "Frankie, wherever you are I love you."

When Ray heard that he came over the intercom and reportedly said, "Oh God, Connie, give me a break, this is going a little too far." But he finally agreed to leave that part in and so they did.

Her heartbreaking voice was very similar to that of our favorite country singer Patsy Cline.

Not only did they possess that little "cry" in their voice, that almost no one can do successfully, they could take almost any material, no matter how simple, and make it better...even great.

As you listen to the music notice how simple the lyrics are but how much emotion Connie puts into this song. One of the more popular 50s Teen heartbreak songs ever.

Listen to her grand and powerful voice and how true her sound is. A clear example why her songs have held up over the years. Absolutely beautiful.

Another one of our favorite Connie Francis heart breakers you rarely hear played on the radio. A true vinyl record memories classic.

Now, the only company she kept was the symphony of chirping crickets and the soft glow of the moonlight cascading over her journal.

Renee told herself she was strong. She had to be. It was only a few weeks ago that Frankie had ended things between them, a decision that left her feeling like a character in a novel whose story had ended without warning.

He had moved on, she had heard, to a girl who laughed more brightly and danced more wildly than she ever could. Renee's heart ached as she thought of how tightly Frankie would hold that new girl, their laughter mingling in the halls where they all used to walk together.

Yet, she told herself, over and over that once she was Frankie's sweetheart and how their conversations flowed effortlessly, their hands interlocking like puzzle pieces designed to be together.

Those moments felt like a lifetime ago, and now, she was just someone he knew, reduced to a friend in the vast sea of acquaintances. Her words to herself became a mantra, a promise that he would never see her cry. Renee wore her smile like armor, each laugh meticulously practiced in the mirror to ensure it looked genuine. Despite her outward composure, the nights were the hardest. The emptiness of her room became a reflection of the void in her heart. She'd lie in bed, clutching a pillow as if it could substitute the warmth that Frankie used to provide.

Her phone rested beside her, an unrelenting reminder of his absence as it remained quiet—no more goodnight texts that used to be the bookend to her day. She whispered to the darkness, acknowledging to herself that she missed him fiercely. Her dreams, once a sanctuary, were now haunted by sepia-toned memories and imagined futures that would never be.

Each morning, Renee rose from her bed, resolved to keep her secret. She composed herself like a writer perfecting the final draft of a novel.

Her heartbeats were counted as background noise to the echoes of their past, each thud a reminder of resilience.

"You will not break," she would coach herself, smoothing a brush through her hair, painting confidence over her features as carefully as she would apply makeup.

And so, Renee faced the world, wrapped in her secrecy, with a soft but unyielding promise to herself. Her tears, she confessed, would be hers alone.