Distant Shores – Chad & Jeremy
The light was always soft around Chad & Jeremy. It wasn’t the harsh, blinding glare of Beatlemania, nor the moody,…
The light was always soft around Chad & Jeremy. It wasn’t the harsh, blinding glare of Beatlemania, nor the moody,…
The dust motes dance in the late afternoon sun, catching the light as they drift over the turntable. The needle…
The sound is not one of a roaring stadium, nor of a tape reel spooling in a smoky, bohemian club.…
It was a late, humid summer night, the kind where the air conditioning unit whined louder than the radio. The…
The year is 1968. The Summer of Love’s golden veneer has begun to flake, giving way to a more electrified,…
The year is 1964. The airwaves are thick with the joyous, infectious syncopation of the British Invasion, a sound that,…
The hour is late. The radio dial is still sticky with the dust of a thousand forgotten stations. And then,…
The air was thick and golden, not unlike the fading light filtering through the stained glass of a forgotten church…
The air in the summer of 1967 felt like a tuning fork struck against the hard surface of American consciousness.…
The scene is Nashville, 1957. The air in the RCA Victor studio, or perhaps Owen Bradley’s famed Quonset Hut, is…