Jude Roberts was born in Nyack, a lovely little town on the western bank of the Hudson River in southern New York State. A kid who never quite fit in with the crowd, he would one day find that he could feel comfortable in front of it. In the meantime, he questioned all the answers. He studied music. He sang. He listened to the masters, known and unknown. He taught himself to play guitar. He made many mistakes, and did some things just right. He dreamed of returning to his Mediterranean roots.   Jude went to a classical music conservatory in Boston. Then he attended a state school in New York where he learned that he could write songs, and loved to do so. He later lived in Santa Monica, California for five years, where he spent most of his time on the beach indulging in a sun addiction.  This led him to spend a good deal more time traveling through Italy and Greece, where he played some unexpectedly delightful rooms. Italians are known for their enthusiasm; after a friendship of a day, a fellow Sicilian set up a gig for him in Trapani, secured an interview on local radio, and stuffed the room with excited listeners: thus what had begun as a dream became a homecoming.   Some years on, Jude finds himself in another lovely little town called Woodstock, which is famous for music. He sits on a bed or a couch or a chair in a sunny spot and writes songs to keep the balance. He still studies, and is a lifelong student of language and natural medicine. He still questions all the answers. On his refrigerator is a picture magnet of Leonard Cohen, taken in the monastic years. Leonard’s expression is enigmatic and open to interpretation. When Jude has a question about what he should do, he asks Leonard for advice, and looks for a smile or a frown to get his answer. So far Leonard has not steered him wrong.  Jude Roberts thinks that the world may have gone insane. But he will always play for you, if you ask him.