"Stand by. Nashville 1283 Take One,"* said the man in the control room.
A young man in slacks and sport shirt planted his stocking feet beside the microphone, began bleating plaintively, picking a lackadaisical guitar. At his back were five other musicians pianist, bass fiddler and three more guitarists all working without written music. Sang the fellow in stocking feet:
I knew my lonely heart was blue,
I knew that it was yearning for a smile;
But how was I to know that one from you
Would start my lonely heart to running wild?...