I always picture an almost-rainy day when I listen to this one. I can see the clouds moving in, the sky darkening and the first droplets falling on the last crisp leave of fall, which twitch under the tiny impacts. The storm rises, but just as it appears to be full blown shower, the huge clouds part as the sun shines through, but only temporarily. After but a brief moment of brilliant light reflecting off the shiny leaves, the rain returns, pummeling the final leaves to the ground. The song ends as the storm gradually moves off, leaving the trees now-barren against the threatening sky, a portend of the Winter to come.

This is one of the few complete songs I wrote in the 70s. Clearly influenced by Simon & Garfunkel’s unusual chord change-ups, this one shifts back and forth between major and minor keys and adds unusual sevenths, sixths, and diminished chords just to mix it up. I especially like the shift to the minor chord riff in the middle that almost has a folk ballad sound to it.

A youthfully optimistic song in which the mood acknowledges difficulties and obstacles but insists that determination and good spirits will ultimately overcome any problems and lead to the promised land of whatever goal you’re after.  Poppycock.

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.

A second stab at my composition, “Complications”. This one is a bit faster and cleaner, with the energy ratcheted up a notch.