Ken Tucker
๐ค SpeakerAppearances Over Time
Podcast Appearances
If you're talking too loud, they can hear you way up in the sky. With the days getting darker, coyotes are nine. Time drags on and there's nine. My mother keeps lying saying there's no other way Send me back to where I was
If you're talking too loud, they can hear you way up in the sky. With the days getting darker, coyotes are nine. Time drags on and there's nine. My mother keeps lying saying there's no other way Send me back to where I was
If you're talking too loud, they can hear you way up in the sky. With the days getting darker, coyotes are nine. Time drags on and there's nine. My mother keeps lying saying there's no other way Send me back to where I was
I like the way Pomeroy's plain-spoken verses open up dialogues with the listener. The conversational tone is something Willie Nelson perfected decades ago. It's what's made him perhaps the most intimate pop music interpreter since Frank Sinatra.
I like the way Pomeroy's plain-spoken verses open up dialogues with the listener. The conversational tone is something Willie Nelson perfected decades ago. It's what's made him perhaps the most intimate pop music interpreter since Frank Sinatra.
I like the way Pomeroy's plain-spoken verses open up dialogues with the listener. The conversational tone is something Willie Nelson perfected decades ago. It's what's made him perhaps the most intimate pop music interpreter since Frank Sinatra.
These days, age has shortened his breath and thinned out the timbre of his voice, but it's still a quiet miracle that draws you in close, as on his version of Rodney Crowell's song, What Kind of Love.
These days, age has shortened his breath and thinned out the timbre of his voice, but it's still a quiet miracle that draws you in close, as on his version of Rodney Crowell's song, What Kind of Love.
These days, age has shortened his breath and thinned out the timbre of his voice, but it's still a quiet miracle that draws you in close, as on his version of Rodney Crowell's song, What Kind of Love.
In the past, Nelson has recorded other album-long salutes to some of his favorite songwriters and singers, such as Ray Price and Roger Miller and Lefty Frizzell. This one feels a little different. The best moments here are when he takes hold of some of Rodney Crowell's more recent songs, not the hits. These are reflective, contemplative compositions.
In the past, Nelson has recorded other album-long salutes to some of his favorite songwriters and singers, such as Ray Price and Roger Miller and Lefty Frizzell. This one feels a little different. The best moments here are when he takes hold of some of Rodney Crowell's more recent songs, not the hits. These are reflective, contemplative compositions.
In the past, Nelson has recorded other album-long salutes to some of his favorite songwriters and singers, such as Ray Price and Roger Miller and Lefty Frizzell. This one feels a little different. The best moments here are when he takes hold of some of Rodney Crowell's more recent songs, not the hits. These are reflective, contemplative compositions.
Like Ken Pomeroy's work, it's about appreciating people and rekindling connections.
Like Ken Pomeroy's work, it's about appreciating people and rekindling connections.
Like Ken Pomeroy's work, it's about appreciating people and rekindling connections.
without you. There's a 70-year age difference between Ken Pomeroy and Willie Nelson, but I hear a similarity in their goals. To resist despair, to get us to look up from our phones and look into someone's eyes. They're both making beautiful music for tumultuous times.
without you. There's a 70-year age difference between Ken Pomeroy and Willie Nelson, but I hear a similarity in their goals. To resist despair, to get us to look up from our phones and look into someone's eyes. They're both making beautiful music for tumultuous times.
without you. There's a 70-year age difference between Ken Pomeroy and Willie Nelson, but I hear a similarity in their goals. To resist despair, to get us to look up from our phones and look into someone's eyes. They're both making beautiful music for tumultuous times.
In 1978, that was most people's introduction to David Thomas' voice, the central sound of Per Ubu, on the opening song of their debut album, The Modern Dance. Everything Thomas would do for the next 47 years was already in place. The high-pitched growl and prickly phrasing, his stop-start way of blurting out the lyrics, the surrealist approach to imagery.
In 1978, that was most people's introduction to David Thomas' voice, the central sound of Per Ubu, on the opening song of their debut album, The Modern Dance. Everything Thomas would do for the next 47 years was already in place. The high-pitched growl and prickly phrasing, his stop-start way of blurting out the lyrics, the surrealist approach to imagery.