Angelpalas

Casi poeta, casi músico, casi loco

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

@kitty_894 Las hice todas.

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

Carambaaa... Que fuerte!🙌🙌

[Be Positive! @beinpositive]

Respect 🥹

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

Que buen video...!

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

Lo intentaré, luego les cuento.

[Emre @olurunbu]

Bu yönetimi yeni öğrendiğim için pişmanım

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

@DOsechas @vivassantanaj_ @joseboscan23 @Vladivillegastv Muchos de estos viejos politiqueros están muertos y todavía no lo saben... ☺️☺️

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

@Chris_Montz Muchas gracias por compartir esta joya, mi admirada Chris. Saludos desde Caracas.

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

Por malagradecido!

[Mugisha @Mugisharober]

Sometimes a random video says more about
politics than an actual political speech.

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

@capital_prensa @noeliaizarza @ProfaMariaSilva @CapitalVEnews @MarvinBeisbol Buen día, este grupo no es de la India, son *Los Parranderos de UWI* (Universidad de las Western Indies), de *Trinidad y Tobago*. La pieza es "Orinoco", popularizada por el grupo zuliano "Rincón Morales". El ritmo es "Parrang", tradicional de allá.

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

@ElViajero_100 Yo tengo el mismo nro desde que compré mi primer celular a Telcel, hace más de 20 años.

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

Esto es una maravilla.

[Music over time🎻 @Peal8888]

💝“No one but Tom Jones will ever own this song.”💝

I used to think that was just the kind of line people throw around when they’re being dramatic. Then I watched this black-and-white performance from 1967, and the sentence suddenly made sense in a way that felt almost physical.

Tom Jones stands alone on a bare stage. Black suit, white shirt, black tie. No elaborate lighting, no dancers, no visual distractions. Just a man, a microphone, and a song. From the first phrase, something shifts. The performance doesn’t feel like a presentation. It feels like a confession that happens to be happening in public.

The song itself has a quiet history. Lonnie Donegan wrote it in 1962, drawing from an old Depression-era folk tune that people used to sing in Welsh pubs. Lonnie once told Tom, “I’ve got this song — you’d sing the pants off it.” Tom recorded it in 1967 and turned it into a hit. Years later he still called it one of his favorites. In 2019, on The Voice UK, he found himself sitting next to Peter Donegan, Lonnie’s son. The two of them sang the song together. The moment was quiet, but it carried weight. It felt less like a television performance and more like a private conversation that happened to be recorded.

What stays with me, though, isn’t the backstory. It’s the way Tom Jones inhabits the song.

His voice has a thickness and weight that modern production often tries to smooth away. When he moves into the higher phrases, he doesn’t thin the sound out. He keeps the full body of his chest voice, so the emotion never loses its physical presence. The breath support is steady, almost invisible. The placement is forward and clear. Even through the limitations of an old black-and-white broadcast, the voice cuts through cleanly. You can hear the control, but you never feel the effort.

The real difference, though, is in how he treats the emotion. Lines like “I just broke down and cried” and “Please don’t make me fall in love again” are not pushed for theatrical effect. He doesn’t climb into them. He lets them sit. There is restraint in the delivery, a kind of held tension that makes the pain feel lived-in rather than performed. It’s the difference between describing heartbreak and remembering it.

I’ve heard other strong versions of this song. Some are technically cleaner. Some are more polished. None of them create the same sensation that the singer is not interpreting the lyric so much as recognizing it. That recognition is what makes the performance feel owned. It’s not about vocal superiority. It’s about the rare moment when a song and a voice seem to have been waiting for each other.

A lot of people, the first time they encounter this clip, simply go quiet. They don’t always reach for big adjectives. Sometimes they just say it feels real. Or that it gave them chills. Or that they had to stop what they were doing. Those reactions say more than praise usually does. They suggest the song has stopped being a piece of entertainment and has become a private space the listener is temporarily allowed to enter.

Plenty of singers can deliver a powerful performance. Very few make you feel that if the song had never existed before, it would have needed to be written specifically for them. Tom Jones belongs to that small group. He doesn’t announce ownership. He doesn’t need to. The second he begins to sing, the distance between the performer and the material collapses.

Nearly sixty years have passed since that night in 1967. Recording technology has advanced beyond recognition. Staging has become more elaborate. The way we consume music has changed completely. And still, when this particular performance appears on a screen, the same quiet recognition returns. Something in the voice, in the restraint, in the way the emotion is held rather than displayed, continues to feel singular.

[Music over time🎻 @Peal8888]

💝“No one but Tom Jones will ever own this song.”💝

I used to think that was just the kind of line people throw around when they’re being dramatic. Then I watched this black-and-white performance from 1967, and the sentence suddenly made sense in a way that felt almost physical.

Tom Jones stands alone on a bare stage. Black suit, white shirt, black tie. No elaborate lighting, no dancers, no visual distractions. Just a man, a microphone, and a song. From the first phrase, something shifts. The performance doesn’t feel like a presentation. It feels like a confession that happens to be happening in public.

The song itself has a quiet history. Lonnie Donegan wrote it in 1962, drawing from an old Depression-era folk tune that people used to sing in Welsh pubs. Lonnie once told Tom, “I’ve got this song — you’d sing the pants off it.” Tom recorded it in 1967 and turned it into a hit. Years later he still called it one of his favorites. In 2019, on The Voice UK, he found himself sitting next to Peter Donegan, Lonnie’s son. The two of them sang the song together. The moment was quiet, but it carried weight. It felt less like a television performance and more like a private conversation that happened to be recorded.

What stays with me, though, isn’t the backstory. It’s the way Tom Jones inhabits the song.

His voice has a thickness and weight that modern production often tries to smooth away. When he moves into the higher phrases, he doesn’t thin the sound out. He keeps the full body of his chest voice, so the emotion never loses its physical presence. The breath support is steady, almost invisible. The placement is forward and clear. Even through the limitations of an old black-and-white broadcast, the voice cuts through cleanly. You can hear the control, but you never feel the effort.

The real difference, though, is in how he treats the emotion. Lines like “I just broke down and cried” and “Please don’t make me fall in love again” are not pushed for theatrical effect. He doesn’t climb into them. He lets them sit. There is restraint in the delivery, a kind of held tension that makes the pain feel lived-in rather than performed. It’s the difference between describing heartbreak and remembering it.

I’ve heard other strong versions of this song. Some are technically cleaner. Some are more polished. None of them create the same sensation that the singer is not interpreting the lyric so much as recognizing it. That recognition is what makes the performance feel owned. It’s not about vocal superiority. It’s about the rare moment when a song and a voice seem to have been waiting for each other.

A lot of people, the first time they encounter this clip, simply go quiet. They don’t always reach for big adjectives. Sometimes they just say it feels real. Or that it gave them chills. Or that they had to stop what they were doing. Those reactions say more than praise usually does. They suggest the song has stopped being a piece of entertainment and has become a private space the listener is temporarily allowed to enter.

Plenty of singers can deliver a powerful performance. Very few make you feel that if the song had never existed before, it would have needed to be written specifically for them. Tom Jones belongs to that small group. He doesn’t announce ownership. He doesn’t need to. The second he begins to sing, the distance between the performer and the material collapses.

Nearly sixty years have passed since that night in 1967. Recording technology has advanced beyond recognition. Staging has become more elaborate. The way we consume music has changed completely. And still, when this particular performance appears on a screen, the same quiet recognition returns. Something in the voice, in the restraint, in the way the emotion is held rather than displayed, continues to feel singular.

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

Esto es una maravillaaa...!

[DoctorFarola @DoctorFarola]

Miren esa vaina 🔥🔥��🔥

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

@freddy_leon_l @Caligula3012 Si no se muestran las fuentes de esa afirmación, fácilmente podría quedar como un chisme o algo inventado para generar polémicas y "likes".

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

Para tomar en cuenta.

[Alvaro_Maestro @alvaro_maestro]

Le pregunté a un amigo que trabaja reparando móviles por qué su iPhone le duraba todo el día sin cargador, mientras el mío se moría a media tarde siendo el mismo modelo. Se rió, cogió mi teléfono, y en cinco minutos me cambió una serie de ajustes que no sabía ni que existían. Desde entonces llego a casa con batería de sobra para el día siguiente. Estos son los 9 ajustes que me hizo en el iPhone para hacer casi un X2 en la duración de la batería👇

[Poirot @Argenpoirot]

Un nivel de inteligencia y solidaridad admirables.

En China estaban haciendo una exhibición, a un nene se le fue la pelota y su compañero lo ayudo de la forma más inteligente. Los asiaticos tienen una capacidad superior.

Es para apludir. Brillante

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

Me resulta incomprensible...

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

@vivassantanaj_ San Bernardino.

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

@TortasMalu @CorpoelecInfo San Bernardino.

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

Que belleza... Esta mujer es extraordinaria.

[Sébastien Mélières @SbastienMlires1]

Shakira invitó a los Ghetto Kids de Uganda para que bailen con ella en dos ceremonias de cierre del mundial. Los incluyó en el video de DAI DAI, algunos conciertos de USA y ahora a su residencia en Madrid. Un cuento de hadas...
Vídeo @luchocastanedap

[Angelpalas @Angelpalast]

Probemos a ver...

[ELK Eliab @mukundwa11222]

OMG 😰😳 have you ever wonded how mixing teethpaste with coca-cola remove rust from metal and remain shiny so try it now and you will thank me later