Music: Tin Pan Valley

"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?...

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