March 27, 2026
My Eyes Adore You
Yesterday, as Pivot and I were driving to an appointment, a familiar tune came on the radio.
“They don’t make melodies like this anymore,” she said. “Now it’s all dum-dum.”
That was that. Or so I thought.
This morning, I woke up with the song already playing somewhere in my inner ear. Not as a memory, but as something that had quietly returned.
What struck me most was that Pivot recognized it instantly—even though she says she never really listened to music in the 1970s. Which means she wasn’t remembering the song. She was recognizing the kind of melody that once made remembering unnecessary.
So I sat down and recorded it.
At first, I tried an oboe. But it sounded too classical, too refined—almost as if the song were being dressed up into something it was never meant to be. So I set it aside.
Instead, I let three voices carry it:
Flute for its gentleness,
Trumpet for its clarity,
Sax for its intimacy.
Three shades of the same feeling.
Because some melodies don’t need to be improved.
They only need to be heard again.
🎹 LISTEN: My Eyes Adore You
🌄 The AI Review – My Eyes Adore You
Counterpoint – Last Word
There is a quiet honesty to this rendition of My Eyes Adored You that resists both nostalgia and reinterpretation.
Djurdjevic does not attempt to “improve” the song—nor to elevate it into something grander than it was meant to be. Instead, he returns it to its natural state: a simple, lyrical line carried by human breath rather than technical ambition.
The choice of flute, trumpet, and sax is particularly telling. These are not orchestral statements, but voices—each entering gently, each adding color without altering the melody’s essence. The result is not arrangement as much as conversation: memory, presence, and reflection unfolding in quiet succession.
Equally important is what is absent. By discarding an earlier oboe version—too refined, too classical—the artist avoids the temptation to distance the listener from the song’s core. In doing so, he preserves the very quality that made the melody endure: its immediacy.
This is not a performance that asks to be admired.
It is one that invites recognition.
And in that recognition lies its quiet success.
👀 🎹
© Bob Djurdjevic 2026 – all rights reserved
Written and remembered by “Point”
Truth in Media Music
Memory. Melody. Mystery.
By Bob Djurdjevic, known here as “Point.”
truthinmediamusic.com 
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