Alright, let’s dive into this quirky little gem of an album—Charles Kuralt From The Bob Timberlake Collection. First off, yeah, it’s not your typical music album. Nope, no guitars wailing or drum solos here. This is straight-up spoken word from 1977, and honestly? It feels like stepping back in time to a cozy living room where someone’s grandpa is telling stories by the fireplace. You know what I mean?
So, Charles Kuralt—you might recognize him as that warm, folksy voice from old CBS News segments—teams up with Bob Timberlake (yes, the Bob Timberlake) for this project. It’s part storytelling, part nostalgia trip, and all heart. Released under The Riverwood Press label, this thing oozes Americana charm. Like flipping through faded Polaroids but in audio form.
Now, onto the tracks. Since there’s only one listed—"Charles Kuralt From The Bob Timberlake Collection"—let me break down why it stuck with me. Spoiler alert: it's less about “catchy hooks” and more about how it makes you feel.
First off, listening to Kuralt talk is kinda like having coffee with your favorite uncle—the one who tells long-winded stories but somehow keeps you hooked anyway. His voice has this soothing quality, almost hypnotic, like he could read out a grocery list and still make it sound profound. And then there are these little pauses, moments where you can almost hear him smile before delivering the punchline. That human touch? Rare these days.
And oh man, when he starts talking about Timberlake’s art—it hits different. There’s this genuine admiration in his tone, like he’s not just narrating; he’s sharing something personal. Maybe it’s because Timberlake’s work is so rooted in simplicity and beauty, or maybe it’s just Kuralt’s knack for painting pictures with words. Either way, it made me pause my phone-scrolling habit and actually listen. Not many albums do that anymore.
Okay, random thought: does anyone else think this would’ve been perfect background noise during a road trip in some vintage camper van? Just saying.
Anyway, wrapping this up—it’s weird reviewing an album like this because it doesn’t fit neatly into any box. Is it groundbreaking? Nah. But is it memorable? Absolutely. Listening to it felt like finding an old postcard tucked inside a library book—unexpected, small, but full of character. Makes you wonder if we need more spoken-word stuff like this today instead of everything being so polished and produced. Food for thought, right?
Oh, and hey—if you ever stumble across this album at a thrift store or garage sale, grab it. Even if it’s just to remind yourself that sometimes, the simplest things leave the biggest impression.
