Webb Pierce – There Stands the Glass
The hour is late. It’s always late when this song comes on. You might be in a dimly lit bar,…
The hour is late. It’s always late when this song comes on. You might be in a dimly lit bar,…
The air in the listening room is still, broken only by the gentle rumble of the turntable. It is a…
The air in the listening room often feels still when the opening measures of Marty Robbins’ “Big Iron” begin. It…
The air in the room is thick and still. A single lamp casts a yellow circle on the worn table,…
The highway hums a different frequency when you listen to The Statler Brothers. It’s a sound rooted deeply in gospel…
The air in the studio must have hung heavy, thick with the smell of old tweed amps and a quiet,…
The air was thick with cigarette smoke and cheap whiskey. It was one of those unforgiving winter nights where the…
The air in the café was thick and dark, smelling of rain-soaked wool and bitter coffee. It was late, the…
The road unwinds in the deep Southern night, asphalt vanishing into the thick darkness. The air in the car is…
It’s late, the kind of late where the neon signs are just smudges of color against the blacktop and the…