Brenda Lee – Let’s Jump The Broomstick (Live) (1959)
The memory of late-night radio, filtered through the static and the heavy summer air, is often a more visceral experience…
The memory of late-night radio, filtered through the static and the heavy summer air, is often a more visceral experience…
The air in the room was thick, not with smoke or dust, but with a kind of electric, anticipatory dread.…
The needle drops in 1953, not with the pristine clarity of modern premium audio, but with the rich, unmistakable hiss…
The year is 1958. The air in the converted Midtown Manhattan church, reportedly used for its unique acoustics, is thick…
It’s an image burned into the collective unconscious: a convertible slicing through the Arizona desert, red dust swirling in the…
The year is 1958. A transistor radio sits humming on a dusty shelf in a roadside diner, its plastic grille…
I remember a damp, late-autumn evening, cruising the suburbs with a friend, the car windows fogged up, the radio hiss…
It’s late, the kind of hour where the world outside seems to have paused, and all that moves is the…
The air is thick with smoke and suggestion. It’s not a memory of a specific place, but the feeling of…
The air in the mid-fifties living room was thick with a kind of post-war, pre-rock-and-roll quietude. Radios, gleaming with walnut…