Sometimes a riff sounds good going in, but turns out to be dead on arrival by the time you get the recorded going. Alas, this is such a case…

There’s nothing I hate more than predictable, cliche music. And yet, from time to time, I do create such little monsters. Wisely, I seldom record it when I do. Nonetheless, sometimes evidence remains, as in this short bit where I can’t even imagine why I thought it was a good idea to document.

just a short experiment in harmony. Not good for much else, really…

In my late teens / early twenties I used to blow off my frustrations through my music – just pounding on the piano or mindlessly slamming the strings on the guitar until the dark and angry clouds departed. Therapy – the number one reason I created in my youth. (Now it’s just “get out of my head.”)

This so called “song” is nothing more than a repetitive riff I happened to record, making it rare insofar as i I seldom documented these “caged gorilla tearing apart a toy” sessions, since creativity wasn’t the point at all.

But this one slipped through, so here it is.

An odd teenager was I. Writing songs about getting old, losing the edge, losing one’s mind. And yet, it is an optimistic song with the refrain, “All I need is you…” Naive perhaps, but so far, one month and a bit from my 67th birthday, the song has proven prophetic, hence the title I just composed today.

Read the story behind this song just below the lyrics.

Here’s the lyrics:

Judy you shine bright,
and like the stars above,
you brighten days in so many ways,
now I believe in love.

Judy I need you,
but that can never be,
so I resign my heart and mind,
to faded memory.

And I knew you before I met you,
and I had you on my mind.
Judy it’s you,
Judy it’s you,
Truly you,
Judy

Now I turn to singing,
and live my life alone.
But like a star so near and far,
I’ll sing of how you’ve shown.

And I knew you before I met you,
and I had you on my mind.
Judy it’s you,
Judy it’s you,
Truly you,
Judy

NOTES:

I believe this is the only love song I ever wrote. I loathe love songs, with a few exceptions. I’m more interested in quirky ideas and odd perspectives. I suppose, “She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy” is my ideal of a love song, or maybe “Lola.” Who the hell likes both of those? Well, this one’s all schmaltzy and innocent and young (I was only about 18 and naive as a newborn when I wrote it – one of those shy introspective kids who led a sheltered life but tried hard to be all cool and “with it” but hadn’t a clue what that was. As Ziggy once put it, “Every time I figure out where it’s at, somebody moves it.” Oh, and Judy? She was a real person, but after all these years I can’t recall if I knew her or just saw her. Where did I encounter her? Did I ever told her about the song? All I have is an image of her face and nothing more, but I have no idea if that is how she actually looked or how she looks in my memory: just another one of those teenage crushes that all blend in together as an extended multi-year case of puppy love, the details lost in the mists of innocence.