Craig Douglas 1962 – Oh Lonesome Me
The air in 1962 was thick with anticipation. The raw, untamed heart of rock and roll was already beating a…
The air in 1962 was thick with anticipation. The raw, untamed heart of rock and roll was already beating a…
There are records that simply arrive, take their place on the wall of sound, and hold it. Then there is…
The needle drops, and the air itself seems to soften. It is late afternoon, the light outside my studio window…
The British Invasion of 1964 landed like a thunderclap, but the subsequent years were less a continuous storm and more…
It is the summer of 1960. The air is thick, shimmering with heat and the nervous, expectant energy of a…
The room is dark, save for the sickly amber glow of a valve radio dial. Outside, 1965 is in full,…
The scene is almost cinematic. A late winter evening in Nashville, December 1961. The city is still shaking off the…
Picture the scene: December 1964. The world still feels the whiplash of Beatlemania. Every move, every mop-top shake, is a…
The year 1960 felt like a moment suspended between two eras: the raw, untamed youth of rock and roll was…
The world P.J. Proby inhabited in 1965 was one of deliberate, explosive contrast. On one side, the polite, tailored beat…