Link Wray – Rumble (1958)
The air in the diner hung thick and greasy, the fluorescent lights buzzing an off-key accompaniment to the jukebox in…
The air in the diner hung thick and greasy, the fluorescent lights buzzing an off-key accompaniment to the jukebox in…
The air in the little diner booth was thick with the smell of stale coffee and fryer grease. Outside, the…
The air in the room changes when the needle drops on this track. It’s an immediate, visceral response—a sudden infusion…
The air in the late 1950s music scene was thick with the sweet, polished sheen of vocal groups and the…
It is three o’clock in the morning. Not the polished, neon-drenched three o’clock of a late-night talk show, but the…
The sound hits you first, even through the thin membrane of an old vinyl transfer or the compressed signal of…
The studio air in 1957 must have been thick with a nervous, almost tangible energy. You could practically smell the…
It’s late evening, the air thick and warm, and you’re driving. The radio signal is fading in and out, the…
The air in the dimly lit lounge was thick, smelling faintly of spilled gin and expensive furniture polish. The year…
The year is 1958. The airwaves are a glorious, restless sonic soup—a mix of saccharine teen idols, the first hard…