Johnny Mathis – “The Best Is Yet To Come”

Johnny Mathis | The Range Planet

Introduction:

In the pantheon of timeless vocalists, few possess the warmth, subtlety, and sheer elegance of Johnny Mathis. With a career spanning over six decades, Mathis has graced the world with a voice that’s as smooth as fine wine and as enduring as the classics he so lovingly interprets. Among the treasures in his vast catalog, “The Best Is Yet to Come” stands as a particularly radiant gem—an anthem of hope, perseverance, and the unwavering belief that life still holds something beautiful just beyond the horizon.

Originally popularized in the early 1960s by Tony Bennett and later made iconic by Frank Sinatra, “The Best Is Yet to Come” has long been associated with a certain urbane optimism. But when Johnny Mathis lends his voice to it, the song takes on a new dimension—one that is introspective, romantic, and almost spiritual in tone. Mathis doesn’t merely sing the lyrics; he inhabits them. His interpretation is not about flashy declarations, but rather quiet conviction—the gentle assurance that, even in the face of loss or doubt, better days are still ahead.

What makes “The Best Is Yet to Come” so compelling in Mathis’s hands is the way he balances nostalgia with anticipation. His phrasing is deliberate and fluid, never rushed. He draws out each line with a sincerity that invites listeners to pause and reflect, to find meaning in every word. There’s an understated grandeur in his performance—one that doesn’t shout for attention but commands it nonetheless. You’re not just listening to a song; you’re being reminded, softly but firmly, to keep believing.

The arrangement itself complements Mathis’s delivery beautifully. Swelling strings, delicate piano lines, and subtle brass accents form a lush backdrop without ever overshadowing the vocal line. It’s a masterclass in restraint and musical sensitivity—qualities that have defined Mathis’s artistry since the very beginning.

For longtime fans, Johnny Mathis singing “The Best Is Yet to Come” feels like a gentle reassurance from an old friend. For newer listeners, it serves as an introduction to the depth of emotion and refinement that he brings to every piece. In an era where music often chases immediacy and spectacle, Mathis reminds us of the power of timeless grace.

This rendition is more than just another cover—it’s a statement of enduring belief. Belief in love, in tomorrow, and in the quiet triumph of staying true to yourself. And in Johnny’s unmistakable voice, that message becomes not only believable—but unforgettable.

Indeed, with Johnny Mathis, the best may very well be yet to come.

Video:

You Missed

“RAIN HAD BROUGHT WIMBLEDON TO A STANDSTILL IN 1996 — BUT WHEN CLIFF RICHARD STOOD UP AND BEGAN SINGING, AN ORDINARY TENNIS DELAY TURNED INTO ONE OF THE MOST UNFORGETTABLE MOMENTS IN THE TOURNAMENT’S HISTORY…” On a rainy day at Wimbledon in 1996, thousands of tennis fans found themselves waiting for play to resume. The famous grass courts were wet, the matches were interrupted, and the crowd had little to do but wait. Then something extraordinary happened. Among the spectators was one of Britain’s most recognizable entertainers: Cliff Richard. Rather than simply watching the rain, Cliff began singing. There was no planned concert, no elaborate stage, and no orchestra waiting to accompany him. Yet the moment quickly turned into an impromptu musical performance. As Cliff entertained the crowd, several tennis stars, including Martina Navratilova, joined the occasion. The spectators who had arrived expecting world-class tennis suddenly found themselves enjoying an unexpected show. Songs associated with Cliff’s long career echoed around Centre Court, bringing laughter, applause, and a welcome distraction from the disappointing weather. What made the moment so memorable was its spontaneity. Cliff had spent decades performing in theaters, concert halls, and stadiums. But this time, one of his most famous appearances happened because a tennis match couldn’t continue. For a few unforgettable minutes, Wimbledon stopped being about tennis — and became a Cliff Richard concert instead.