OldiesButGoodies

Country

Kenny Rogers – Through The Years

Through The Years - song and lyrics by Kenny Rogers | Spotify

Introduction:

“Through the Years,” a poignant ballad penned by Steve Dorff and Marty Panzer, found its enduring voice in the velvety tones of country music icon Kenny Rogers. Released in 1981 as part of his album Share Your Love, the song quickly climbed the charts, reaching the top spot on the Billboard Adult Contemporary chart and solidifying its place in the hearts of millions.   

The song’s enduring appeal lies in its simple yet profound message of enduring love and unwavering commitment. With lyrics that chronicle the passage of time and the steadfastness of a lifelong bond, “Through the Years” resonates with listeners of all ages and backgrounds. The song’s timeless quality is further enhanced by Rogers’ heartfelt delivery, his signature gravelly voice imbuing the lyrics with a sense of warmth, nostalgia, and unwavering devotion.

The song’s impact extends beyond its commercial success. It has become a beloved wedding staple, a poignant choice for couples celebrating their enduring love. Its inclusion in films like The Wedding Singer and P.S. I Love You has further cemented its place in popular culture. “Through the Years” remains a testament to the enduring power of love and the importance of cherishing those precious moments that shape a lifetime together.

Video:

https://youtu.be/TzEwadgcZnQ?si=eB2THhzwme6VyJTB

Related Post

THE LAST TIME THE CROWD ROSE FOR MERLE HAGGARD — HE WOULD NEVER WALK ONSTAGE AGAIN. They carried him through the doors wrapped in the very flag he once sang about — and in the stillness that followed, there was something almost audible… a fragile echo only lifelong listeners could feel in their bones. Merle Haggard’s story closed the same way it opened: unpolished, honest, and deeply human. From being born in a converted boxcar during the Great Depression to commanding the grandest stages across America, his life unfolded like a country ballad etched in grit, regret, resilience, and redemption. Every lyric he sang carried the weight of lived experience — prison walls, hard roads, blue-collar truths, and hard-earned second chances. Those who stood beside his casket said the atmosphere felt thick, as if the room itself refused to forget the sound of his voice. It wasn’t just grief in the air — it was reverence. A stillness reserved for someone whose music had become stitched into the fabric of ordinary lives. One of his sons leaned close and murmured, “He didn’t really leave us. He’s just playing somewhere higher.” And perhaps that’s the only explanation that makes sense. Because artists like Merle don’t simply vanish. They transform. They become the crackle of an AM radio drifting through a late-night highway. They become the soundtrack of worn leather seats and long stretches of open road. They live in jukebox corners, in dance halls, in quiet kitchens where memories linger longer than the coffee. Somewhere tonight, a trucker tunes in to an old melody. Somewhere, an aging cowboy lowers his hat and blinks back tears. And somewhere in that gentle hum of steel guitar and sorrow, a whisper carries through: “Merle’s home.”

Gene Watson – Dreams Of A Dreamer Gone Blind

On April 6, 2016 — the very day he turned 79 — Merle Haggard took his final breath after calmly telling his family, “Today’s the day.” No dramatic hospital chaos. No public spectacle. Just a man who had always lived on his own terms choosing to meet the end the same way. His departure was as deliberate and unshaken as the outlaw spirit that defined him. While the world mourned, Haggard exited quietly — steady, self-possessed, unapologetically himself. And though his voice fell silent that day, it never truly faded. Through songs like “Sing Me Back Home,” his legacy still echoes — raw, haunting, and impossible to forget.

You Missed

Country

THE LAST TIME THE CROWD ROSE FOR MERLE HAGGARD — HE WOULD NEVER WALK ONSTAGE AGAIN. They carried him through the doors wrapped in the very flag he once sang about — and in the stillness that followed, there was something almost audible… a fragile echo only lifelong listeners could feel in their bones. Merle Haggard’s story closed the same way it opened: unpolished, honest, and deeply human. From being born in a converted boxcar during the Great Depression to commanding the grandest stages across America, his life unfolded like a country ballad etched in grit, regret, resilience, and redemption. Every lyric he sang carried the weight of lived experience — prison walls, hard roads, blue-collar truths, and hard-earned second chances. Those who stood beside his casket said the atmosphere felt thick, as if the room itself refused to forget the sound of his voice. It wasn’t just grief in the air — it was reverence. A stillness reserved for someone whose music had become stitched into the fabric of ordinary lives. One of his sons leaned close and murmured, “He didn’t really leave us. He’s just playing somewhere higher.” And perhaps that’s the only explanation that makes sense. Because artists like Merle don’t simply vanish. They transform. They become the crackle of an AM radio drifting through a late-night highway. They become the soundtrack of worn leather seats and long stretches of open road. They live in jukebox corners, in dance halls, in quiet kitchens where memories linger longer than the coffee. Somewhere tonight, a trucker tunes in to an old melody. Somewhere, an aging cowboy lowers his hat and blinks back tears. And somewhere in that gentle hum of steel guitar and sorrow, a whisper carries through: “Merle’s home.”

Country

Gene Watson – Dreams Of A Dreamer Gone Blind

Oldies Music

“After 50 Years of Devotion, Barry Gibb Breaks His Silence About the Woman Who Never Left His Side — And the World Is Listening.”

Oldies Music

Cliff Richard’s Last Goodbye Could Be Approaching — As He Steps Back Onto Australian Soil at 85, Every Gentle Note Feels Like a Thank You, a Reflection, and a Soft Whisper That This Might Be His Final Farewell to the Country That Has Loved Him for Decades.