Sitting at the sidebar

Music has always been a part of my life. My mother played Billie Holiday records, The Beatles blasted from behind the walls of my big brother's room, and at night my father strummed his guitar and sang union songs as I fell asleep. But it was 1971 when I began listening to the radio, buying records and developing my own taste.

Here's a song I loved from that time, when my radio was something I couldn't live without, and when music first began opening doors to my 8-year-old world, stirring my emotions and leaving me with an uncomfortable yet thrilling feeling that there was always something more.