The Four Seasons 1966 – Working My Way Back To You
The air was thick and humid, smelling of old leather and stale cigarette smokeāthe universal scent of a dimly lit…
The air was thick and humid, smelling of old leather and stale cigarette smokeāthe universal scent of a dimly lit…
The air in the cabin was thick with the scent of pine and old leather. It was late, maybe 2…
The air in early 1964 felt like high-voltage electricity, a dizzying current flowing across the Atlantic. Merseybeat had done its…
It is two in the morning. The kind of hour where city sounds thin out, leaving only the bass frequencies…
There are pieces of music that define an era, and then there are those that simply explode it. They arrive…
The memory is not a visual one, but a sonic one: the distant, slightly muffled quality of a transistor radio…
The vinyl still carries the scent of a long-gone winter evening, the static whisper of a world turning from monochrome…
The memory is not of a stadium, nor even a smoky, post-gig London club. It is a quiet Sunday afternoon,…
The first time I heard the song, I was in a room bathed in the blue-grey glow of a late…
The studio air in the early sixties was thick with change, an anxious hum beneath the bright sheen of pop.…