I was as yet but a very young gel, pre-pubescent indeed, when the plangent and plaintive voice of Gene Pitney singing 'Twenty-Four Hours From Tulsa' gave me my first-ever inkling of the many irregularities of adult life, of the weaknesses, forbidden thrills, deceptions and heartbreaks that lay ahead.
By the time I heard Dusty Springfield sing it, I had a slightly better idea of what it was about.
Apparently Pitney died after giving a great performance. It's the best death any musician could reasonably ask for.
1 comment:
I was sorry to hear this.
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