My First Lesson in the Blues

 My First Lesson in the Blues

Judy in Disguise - with Glasses

The first song I can really remember grabbing hold of me—like reaching out of the airwaves and planting itself inside my little five-year-old brain—was “Judy in Disguise (With Glasses)” by John Fred & His Playboy Band.

We were living in St. Mary’s County, Maryland at the time, and my mom had stumbled on the album at a flea market. I can still see the way she held it up, the kind of casual treasure-hunting moment only moms could pull off. For me, though, that record was gold.

I had my own little portable phonograph back then, and once that record dropped onto the turntable, I was hooked. I probably listened to “Judy in Disguise” a hundred times in a row, wearing out the groove and bouncing along in my own little world. The sound of that horn section, the playful lyrics, the sheer joy of it—it was my first taste of music hitting me right in the soul.

And then came my first real taste of the blues.

After one of those marathon listening sessions, I carefully slid the record back into its sleeve, set it on my bed, and went off about my five-year-old business. Later that day, ready to fall back into Judy’s disguise again, I came running back to my room, record player in hand. Without thinking, I plopped down on the bed to set it up—

CRACK.

I had sat on my very first album. Snapped it clean.

There it was: my introduction to heartbreak, delivered through vinyl. I didn’t know much about the blues at the time, but I learned quickly that day—sometimes the music gets broken before you’re ready for it to end.

Funny thing is, that little accident didn’t ruin the song for me. If anything, it burned it deeper into memory. To this day, when I hear “Judy in Disguise,” I don’t just hear a hit from the late ‘60s—I hear the sound of a kid falling in love with music, and at the same time learning that love always comes with a little risk.

My very first album. My very first heartbreak. My very first blues.