Smokey Robinson & the Miracles – The Tears of a Clown
I remember the first time I heard the opening seconds of “The Tears of a Clown.” I was fifteen, slouched…
I remember the first time I heard the opening seconds of “The Tears of a Clown.” I was fifteen, slouched…
It’s 1956. Rock and roll is less a genre and more a seismic event, shaking the polite foundations of American…
The air in the television studio was likely stale, tinged with the metallic tang of arc lights and the scent…
The television screen shimmers with the high-gloss sheen of mid-sixties Technicolor. It’s 1966, and the set is pure Las Vegas…
The song begins with an undeniable pulse—a groove that doesn’t just invite you to dance, but demands it. It’s the…
The air in the living room was always static and hushed on Saturday nights. The scent of furniture polish and…
It is the sonic equivalent of a newsreel in Technicolor. Close your eyes and you’re not in the room; you’re…
The year is 1969. The great sonic conversation of the sixties was winding down, mutating into something heavier, more introspective,…
It’s an overcast Tuesday in late autumn, and a chill has settled into the bones of the afternoon. The world…
The glow of the late-night dial was amber and dusty. It was 1957, and the airwaves were a chaotic landscape…