Bread 1972 – Baby I’m A Want You
The air in the café hung heavy with the smell of old paper and overly strong coffee. Rain lashed against…
The air in the café hung heavy with the smell of old paper and overly strong coffee. Rain lashed against…
The year is 1967, and London is dissolving into a kaleidoscope of psychedelic colours, but the light that falls upon…
We all carry that invisible moment, a scene from a forgotten movie or a memory built in the glow of…
It’s 1957. The air in the Columbia Recording Studio A in New York City is thick with cigarette smoke and…
The air in the room was thick with smoke and expectation. It was late 1956, and the sonic landscape of…
The air in the studio was reportedly thick with a sense of audacity. It was 1968, and the Beatles’ Sgt.…
The sound of rain on a distant window pane. That’s the atmosphere of Ralph McTell’s “Streets of London,” not in…
The memory is as sharp as a clean arpeggio in a silent room: a late night, the car radio humming…
I remember the first time this particular piece of music stopped me cold. It wasn’t the teenage angst of “It’s…
The radio was always a different country after midnight. The static hissed and popped like distant embers, an atmospheric backdrop…