Embracing a Long‑Felt Yearning That Refuses to Fade
In the luminous croon of Marty Robbins, “That Old Feeling” emerges not merely as a cover but as a tender confession steeped in longing and memory. Originally penned by Sammy Fain (music) and Lew Brown (lyrics) in 1937, the song found renewed life when Robbins included it as track 9 on his 1968 album By the Time I Get to Phoenix.
In that opening moment, Robbins’ voice is quiet yet suffused with a gentle ache. The lyric, “I saw you last night and got that old feeling,” becomes less a recollection and more a confession. The listener can almost picture the scene: one last dance between past and present, the spark of former love rekindling with the briefest glance. Every note, every pause seems to hold the weight of memory.
Robbins’ decision to place this standard — from an earlier generation — at the heart of a late‑1960s album reveals his sensibility as an interpreter of emotion. By the Time I Get to Phoenix was itself a departure from his earlier Western‑themed ballads and gunfighter songs; as one retrospective notes, the album was an “eclectic, countrypolitan collection drawing on pop tunes past and present.”
In this context, “That Old Feeling” functions as a bridge — bridging eras, styles, and moods. It evokes the ghost of love long lost, yet it is rendered here with the smooth warmth of 1960s country‑pop. Robbins lets the lyric breathe: “When you came in sight, I got that old feeling,” he sings almost in passing, but the emotion lingers, haunting. The ensuing lines — of heart‑throbs, dancing shadows, the spark of love still burning — feel less like nostalgia and more like reluctant acceptance: the narrator knows “there’ll be no new romance,” yet cannot deny the flame that still flickers within.
Musically, the arrangement complements the emotional core. The chord changes are gentle, the tempo unhurried, creating space for Robbins’ vocal to coax out every shade of wistfulness. The quiet intensity doesn’t demand drama — instead, it invites reflection.
In a period when Robbins was better known for thrilling tales of cowboys and gunfighters, this song stands out. It reveals a quieter, softer side of him: a man capable not only of narrating adventures but also of navigating the subtle territories of love, regret, and memory. Its presence on the album underscores his versatility and understanding of the human heart.
Over the decades, “That Old Feeling” has remained a quietly cherished gem — not the kind of chart‑topping smash that defines popular memory, but the kind of song that visits you late at night, when the world is still, and memories drift in like smoke. For those who listen closely, Robbins’ rendition becomes a meditation on longing and loss — and perhaps on the small, enduring flame of love that no passage of time can fully extinguish.