The Left Banke - Walk Away Renee

I'm just slightly in love with this song at the moment:

The Left Banke - Walk Away Renee

Walk Away Renee is one of those songs that, despite having been around for a while and being simple and brilliant, doesn't get played a lot.  Which only serves to add to its reputation (over-saturation is music cancer...).  It's one of those stalwarts of music so well established that it has its own Wiki article, the most interesting part of which, I believe, is the story behind the song's namesake, Renee Fladen-Kamm:

The song is one of a number Brown wrote about Renee Fladen-Kamm, then-girlfriend of The Left Banke's bassist Tom Finn and object of Brown's affection. She was associated with the band for a few weeks, and described as a free-spirited and quite tall blonde. The song was written one month after Brown met her.[7] "Walk Away Renée" was one of series of love songs the infatuated Brown wrote after meeting his newfound muse.[8] Other songs written about her include the band's second hit "Pretty Ballerina" and "She May Call You Up Tonight". After decades of obscurity, she was identified in 2001 as a noted singer, vocal teacher and artist on the West Coast.[9]
Brown says of his unrequited love for Renée:
"I was just sort of mythologically in love, if you know what I mean, without having evidence in fact or in deed...But I was as close as anybody could be to the real thing"[7]
Fladen-Kamm was looking on during the recording of the song, and her presence nearly prevented its completion. In an interview, Brown stated:
"My hands were shaking when I tried to play, because she was right there in the control room," he says. "There was no way I could do it with her around, so I came back and did it later.[10]"

I think most of us have known this kind of 'bad love'.  The infatuation, the unhealthy interest bordering on obsession, the building-up of one person on a monumental pedestal that is ultimately un-achieveable, all compounded and made all the worse by the unrequited nature of the feelings.  Grrrrrreat stuff.


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