Dwight Yoakam – Take Hold of My Hand
Classic Oldies A hand outstretched in daylight—Dwight Yoakam opens “Take Hold of My Hand” like a porch light after hard weather, inviting love to step inside and stay. Put the anchors where…
Dwight Yoakam
Dwight Yoakam – The Late Great Golden State
A postcard from California’s long twilight—Dwight Yoakam sings of grit, glamour, and getting by in “The Late Great Golden State.” Before the guitars even bite, the context matters. “The Late…
Dwight Yoakam – Wild Ride
A barroom parable set to a backbeat—Dwight Yoakam turns temptation and consequence into a wild ride you can feel in your bones. Released as an album cut on This Time…
Dwight Yoakam – Send Me The Pillow
A porch-light invitation to remember—“Send Me the Pillow (That You Dream On)” finds Dwight Yoakam lowering his voice, letting longing arrive the way summer air moves through a screen door.…
Dwight Yoakam – Train in Vain
A punk confession reborn under honky-tonk lights — “Train in Vain” becomes a bluegrass-tinged handshake between London grit and Bakersfield grace, where denial softens into a rueful smile. Put the…
Dwight Yoakam – Dim Lights, Thick Smoke
A neon prayer in three-and-a-half minutes — “Dim Lights, Thick Smoke (and Loud, Loud Music)” finds Dwight Yoakam back under the barroom bulbs, tipping his hat to honky-tonk wisdom and…
Dwight Yoakam – I’ll Pretend
A brisk, blue-lit confession of denial — “I’ll Pretend” teaches the oldest honky-tonk trick: when the truth is too sharp to touch, you sing around it until your hands stop…
Dwight Yoakam – Stop The World (And Let Me Off)
A stop-time prayer for the brokenhearted — “Stop the World (And Let Me Off)” is the moment grief asks for mercy, and a honky-tonk answers with a slow, knowing nod.…
Dwight Yoakam – Close Up The Honky Tonks
A last call turned prayer — neon winks out, the jukebox breathes, and a stubborn heart asks the town for mercy. Put the bedrock first, because the facts anchor the…
Dwight Yoakam – Nothing’s Changed Here
A stubborn, mid-tempo ache—“Nothing’s Changed Here” sounds like denial said softly enough to pass for courage. When Dwight Yoakam sent “Nothing’s Changed Here” to radio in July 1991, it arrived…