Songs That Chronicle My Life

I have a pretty good memory, I'm told. I can remember things as early as age 3, while some people I know barely remember high school. One of my wife's friends has no memories at all before age 8. Key to my memories is music, which seems to have always been part of my life.

"Here Comes the Sun" by the Beatles

One of my earliest memories is of sitting in the back of my mom's 1972 Pontiac LeMans, listening to the radio while we drove around running errands. I had no idea Mom had a cool muscle car. It was just what I considered "Mom's Car," yellow, with an AM radio, an 8 track tape player, and two custom speakers in the back. AM radio was different back then. There were music stations, and I remember hearing this song and loving it every time it came on. It was a fairly new song at the time, probably only 3 years old by the time I remember hearing it. Still one of my favorite songs of all time.

"The Sound of Silence" by Simon & Garfunkel

I only remember one 8 track in Mom's car, kept in the glove compartment, and we would listen to it now and then. It was the soundtrack to the hit film "The Graduate", with music by Simon & Garfunkel. There were several good songs on there, like the iconic "Mrs. Robinson" but this one always stuck with me most.

"The Candy Man" by Sammy Davis, Jr.

"Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" was one of my favorite movies when I was a kid, same with every other kid at the time, and kids for generations since. This song was featured in the movie, and I loved it so much my parents got me the single, which I played daily on my little portable record player.

"Rhinestone Cowboy" by Glen Campbell

This song I undoubtedly heard on the radio when driving around with my parents. It was a huge hit, and I'd sing along with it every time it came on in the car. Thus it became the only only music record I had as a kid, playing both of them constantly.

"Born to Lose" by Ray Charles

My grandparents didn't play music as much as my parents. They rarely played music in the car at all. Grandpa was usually listening to the Cubs game or the news. And we always joked that Grandpa should never sing, but I'm pretty sure he was singing comically bad to amuse (or possibly quiet) us grandkids. However, I do recall him singing this song from time to time, particularly when he had a bad poker hand. While my cousins and I disregarded my grandparents' record collection back then - mostly Italian singers and opera - I do recall he had some Ray Charles records. I later found that my dad did, too. His copy of Ray Charles' Greatest Hits is sitting right by my player in the living room right now.

"Auld Lang Syne" by Guy Lombardo

Grandma almost never sang. She came to America from Italy when she was 13, speaking no English at the time, and while she did become fluent she was self-conscious of her language skills and also didn't consider herself much of a singer. However, ever year while I was at her house for Christmas vacation, we would watch the New Year's Eve specials, which always culminated in this song, which she would sing. I'll never hear this song without thinking of her singing along with it, or what New Year's felt like back then. I wrote about it in this poem, which also appears in my book, "Songs of Love and Hate."

"Margaritaville" by Jimmy Buffet

My dad wasn't a big fan of modern music. If we were listening to the radio, it was AM oldies stuff, the news, or the country and western station. He actually said, "The Beatles destroyed rock and roll. Everything was terrible after them." (Mom secretly liked the Beatles and a lot of the 60s and 70s stuff Dad wouldn't listen to). One day we were driving around and this song came on the country station. It was new at the time, and was on a lot. Dad said, "Now listen to this. It's a good song. It tells a story. Good songs tell stories, and the music is good." It is a good song, and his standard for what makes a good song stuck with me.

"On the Road Again" by Willie Nelson

Dad ended up being a big Willie Nelson fan for a while, in that late 70s/early 80s period when country western and CB radios were a huge pop cultural thing. Call it the "Dukes of Hazzard"/"Smokey and the Bandit"/"Urban Cowboy" era. Huge. HUGE. This song was on the radio every day, and beside that, Dad had Willie's greatest hits on cassette for in the car and on record to play at home. I acted like the song was battery acid on my ears, but it actually wasn't that bad.

"Polk Salad Annie" by Tony Joe White

Most weekends from Spring through Fall, my dad would wash the car on whichever morning he wasn't golfing, and he would often ask me to help. I hated all the outdoor chores, with good reason. Mowing the lawn, weeding, fixing things, painting, and picking up dog shit are all hot, unpleasant jobs and mosquitoes are drawn to me like fruit flies to a black banana. However, this was the one exception. If you get too hot while washing the car, cool off with the hose. Plus, after we washed the car, we would put it in the garage, dry it off, and wax it. While we did that, Dad would turn on the old clock radio he had in the garage (another that had only AM) and we would listen to the oldies station. This is a song that I always loved when it came on, and it pretty much exemplifies what I think of as AM music. I've never heard it on an FM station, and it was just a fun, weird song. Elvis had his own version. This one is better, and I was thrilled to find the 45 many years later in a random selection of singles in a discount bin.

"I Can't Tell You Why" by the Eagles

Because my parents didn't listen to the new pop music at the time, I don't have many memories of what would have been contemporary rock in the 70s. Disco and country, sure. But rock? No. However, sometimes we would have people over, and as a kid, my bed time was still 8 o'clock. The deal was, if I was good, I could put my sleeping bag in my parents' room and listen to the clock radio there. Dad would put on one of the new music stations, quietly, and I would drift off listening to whatever dinner party discussion was going on downstairs, plus stuff like Fleetwood Mac, Rod Stewart and the Bee Gees. This song stands out as one that would be on a lot. It was really soothing and mellow, and it made me think about band names. I was used to kids' bands, gimmick bands. Bands that I'd see on cartoons or kids' shows. So I assumed the Eagles were like that, so named because they sang so high, like the screech of an eagle.

"Macho Man" by the Village People

I don't know where I heard this song for the first time. It was probably on the radio when I was in the car with my mom. I just remember loving every Village People song I heard, from "YMCA" to "In the Navy." But none more than this one. I'd listen to them at my friend's house since he had the record, I'd watch them when they guested on "The Love Boat," I was a fan. At school, the cool kids were into KISS, so they made fun of me for liking the Village People, saying they were all gay. I didn't even know what gay meant, I just liked the songs, but I was determined to defend the band, and received a beating or two for it. I remember having the album "Macho Man" on my Christmas list around 4th grade. I didn't get it, though later I did get their double album "Live and Sleazy" from Santa. It had "Macho Man" on it, which was a lesser, altered, live version, but at least the song was on there. In the 90s I finally achieved the lifetime (okay, childhood) goal of seeing them in concert as part of a 70s Rewind disco tour. Good show.

"America" by Neil Diamond

Mom was a huge Neil Diamond fan, as were most of her friends. Neil Diamond, the Bee Gees, and Barry Manilow. When she was vacuuming she'd put on her records, which included the soundtrack to "The Jazz Singer." There were a lot of good songs on there, but this, the big finish, was the best of them. Mom and I would both dance and jump around to this one.

"Chiquitita" by ABBA

The other group Mom listened to at the time was ABBA, who were such a worldwide smash they were hard to avoid. Their records were in pretty steady rotation when Mom was cleaning the house, and I liked most of the songs. This one stuck out, because I didn't quite understand it, and it made me aware that there were other types of music around the world. I'd get hints of it in old country songs where flamenco guitar was played, but this one made me think a lot. It's also so damned SAD. It made me think that music is more than bubble gum ditties and love songs.

"Tell Laura I Love Her" by Ray Patterson

Another oldie I'd hear on the radio with my parents, this one is significant for two reasons. At some point I got my own radio - a red AM/FM battery powered portable that actually had a bracket with which I could put it on the handlebars of my bike (the bracket broke pretty quickly). I'd go outside to listen to the radio, and the station that tuned in best on that thing, aside from the AM news/sports station that I had no used for, was the oldies station. On that station, I learned about the very messed up subgenre of 50s/60s pop in which teenagers got killed. Stuff like "Teen Angel" and this one, which is about as overwrought as songs can get.

The second reason is, in 5th grade I fell in love for the first time, to a girl in 6th grade. She was nice to me, and didn't treat me like a little kid beneath contempt even though I was a grade behind her. She and her two friends were misfits in their own right - she was skinny and a bit of a nerd like me, her friend April was overweight, and her other friend Esther was Korean, when there weren't many Asians in our school at all. So I hung out with them every day and it was bliss. But then, that Summer, she and her family moved and I was heartbroken. Her name was Laura Jones, and when she was gone I'd bicycle around our neighborhood and mope in the yard, singing and thinking of this song, as only a lovestruck kid can do.

"Ride Captain Ride" by Blues Image

I was a superhero fan pretty much from the start. Some of my earliest memories were of watching the classic cartoons and shows on tv, and reading comics over and over again. When I was little, network tv (ABC, CBS, NBC) got high ratings from showing hit films like "The Godfather" when they were done showing in theatres, while local UHF channels (which later became Fox and UPN) would play older, weirder fare like kung fu and sci-fi movies. For a while, after the 8 o'clock movie on Friday nights, Channel 18 in Milwaukee played the 1940s "Captain America" movie serials. They were black and white, there were no super-villains, and he carried a gun but not his shield, which made no sense. However it was still Captain America, so I'd force myself to stay awake long enough to watch, and before it started, this song was played. Great song of its own right, but I'll forever tie it to Captain America.

"Eminence Front" by The Who

"Bumper music" is the term for music played before and after a commercial break on radio and tv, and when I was staying up to watch those Captain America shorts on Channel 18, there was a weird snippet of synthesizer and drum music at all the commercial breaks for the movie of the night. I never knew what it was, I just figured it was original music the station did. I learned later, when I saw the Who live in 1989, that it was the opening to "Eminence Front." I came to love the song after that night, but until then, it was "The Channel 18 movie song."

"Athena" by The Who

As with a lot of kids, I had braces. Twice in fact. I didn't mind going to the orthodontist. He was nice, and I was old enough to appreciate that the dental assistants there were universally cute. Oddly, they all pretty much looked like Julie from "The Love Boat", which wasn't a bad thing. He could tighten those things on my teeth as much as he wanted as long as one of those girls was sitting there smiling and asking if I was okay. The same radio station was always on when I was there, and almost without fail, this song would come on. I had no idea who it was, but I liked the song.

"Another Brick in the Wall (Part 2)" by Pink Floyd

There was clearly a cultural shift from when my parents went to school and when I went to school. While they may not have enjoyed school every day, there were fun aspects and they had fond memories. They still go to not only their high school reunions but grammar school reunions. My graduating class has largely been uninterested in reunions, and at least one third of them said they never wanted to see, talk to, or think or our school or anyone from it again. This song came out when I was in grammar school (we called it elementary or grade school), and we added it to the rotation of songs we sang on the playground or on the back of the bus at the end of the day. Pretty much all of the songs revolved around wishes that school would end not with our graduation but the destruction of the building.

"The Monster Mash (live)" by The Beach Boys

When I was in 5th or 6th grade my parents gave me this album, saying they wanted me to know what music was like when they were young. I listened to the record quite a bit and it was fine, but the song that really got my attention was "Monster Mash". I learned later that they didn't do the original song, but I still loved it and the original.

"Mr. Roboto" by Styx

I heard this one on the radio and loved it so much I had to have the single. I didn't know what a concept album was, I hadn't heard any of the rest of the "Kilroy Was Here" record, and didn't until many years later (at which time I really didn't like the album), but I was nuts for the song, including the super cool picture sleeve. Kids at school talked about the plot of the album, and the video (video? What's that?), but all I knew was, this song was my favorite song in the world, and I would call our local radio station constantly asking them to play it, sometimes using other voices to make them think untold numbers of people were asking them to play the song. Usually they'd play it for me.

"Shadows of the Night" by Pat Benatar

When I started babysitting around age 12, I actually had money of my own, and the two things I wanted were comic books and music. One of the first records I bought was "Chartaction 83", a K-Tel Records compiliation. The other was "Hit Explosion." Both had great songs on them that I played over and over again, jumping around my room. Every time I hear this one it just sounds like that period of time, jumping around so much my bedroom furniture shook and my dog had to stay out of the way.

"Major Tom (Coming Home)" by Peter Schilling

I talk a lot about the sound of early 80s music, what is often called New Wave. When I think of it, there are basically two themes: The Cold War, and Space/The Future. My wife likes to note the third theme: super-creepy love songs, like "Every Breath You Take" by the Police, not meant to be creepy but when you think about them they are. This song epitomizes the first two themes really well. A sequel to David Bowie's "Space Oddity," it's about going into space and things going very wrong. It's hard to explain these themes to people today, other than to say we all grew up knowing either the Americans or the Russians could send the missiles at any time, for whatever stupid reason, even a glitch, and 15 minutes later, we'd all be dead, the whole world. But we still had to go to work and school, so be ready to die. At the same time, the space shuttle was going up and coming back regularly, doing cool things, and we were getting new innovations all the time, so the future might be bright, if we don't die first.

"Touch of Grey" by the Grateful Dead

This song put the Grateful Dead on my radar, and made me want to go to a concert for the first time. I bought the single (on gray vinyl!) and talked to my cousin, who also loved the song and amazing video, about going to see the band at Alpine Valley, were they tended to play every summer. We talked a lot about it, and told our parents we wanted to go, and they seemed hesitant to let us or help us, hoping the plans would fizzle on their own. They did, even though there was a concert that year. I never did get to see them, though I became a fan. Not a complete Deadhead, getting into the fine detail of how they played different songs at different shows or reading all of the related lore or playing in a cover band, but I love the "In the Dark" album and the classic songs.

"Take Me Home" by Phil Collins

By the mid 80s vinyl was fading away and cassettes were the new thing. They took up a lot less display space in stores, and it got tougher to find new records, so I asked for a boom box with a cassette player for Christmas and got it, one of my best Christmas presents ever. Not long after, my friend and I went to downtown Milwaukee, where we went to Radio Doctors, which everyone knew was the cool music store - they sponsored all the concerts mentioned on the radio. There I bought my first three tapes, one of which was "No Jacket Required," by Phil Collins. A monster hit, almost all of the songs were released as singles. This was the last track on the album, which remains one of my favorite songs of all time. It has everything I liked about music at the time - a great sound, particular good drums, and themes of being a prisoner and regaining freedom. The 80s were grim that way, but hopeful. This of course resonated with high school me, who was still a prisoner there, but I'd be getting out in just a few short years.

"Invisible Touch" by Genesis

Like "No Jacket Required" this was an album so huge you couldn't get away from it. Phil and Genesis were everywhere, and this album made me a fan. While I had been a solid Beatles fan before this, I ended up having to buy every album, every solo album, everything I could find.

"Miami Vice Theme" by Jan Hammer

It's hard to overestimate the impact of the show "Miami Vice" on the culture of the 80s. Basically, before this show, girl in my school were dressing like Madonna or Cyndi Lauper if they were imitating anyone, and one guy I knew wanted to be Michael Jackson, despite being white and not being able to sing. "Miami Vice" marked the first time modern music was used in a tv show, shot the way music videos were shot. It wasn't just some song they were playing, or the characters singing some lame song, it was the actual show using modern music as part of the show, and having it feel like a video. Plus there was the action, the girls, the car, and the guys looked so cool. Suddenly people everywhere were wearing pastel t-shirts under grey or white sport jackets with the sleeves rolled up, and facial stubble went from being shameful and sloppy to cool. And the actual theme of the show became a hit song, and the soundtrack became a hit album. It's in my living room right now, on vinyl.

Part of the significance is, that Christmas where I got the boom box, there was a blizzard. More than one. School was closed for so long it seemed we would never go back. Everything was closed. There was no where to go. So all I did for a long time was sit in our living room with all the lights off except the Christmas tree, play music on the radio, and sometimes record songs from the radio onto blank tapes so I could listen to them whenever I wanted. I was really excited to finally get this one when there wasn't a DJ talking over the beginning or end. I still have those tapes I made, and somewhere on there I have a DJ coming on and saying more snow is expected.

"Band on the Run" by Wings

My family didn't go on vacations, ever, until about 1987. That summer we actually drove out to Washington DC and because I had a learner's permit I was expected to take turns with my dad getting us out there and back. When I wasn't driving I was in the back, listening to my Walkman, and one of the tapes I had with me was Paul McCartney's "All the Best." I'd listen over and over again, and this song and "Jet" were probably my favorites. Famously, on the trip back, I ate Burger King onion rings in Virginia and farted every 10 minutes from there to Indiana.

"Baraccuda" by Heart

Junior year of high school I had open study hall for the first time. In my school, that meant that rather than being stuck in a classroom where there was a teacher and we were expected to do homework or read or at least pretend like we were doing that, we could be in the lunchroom, where we could buy snacks, and where they played the radio, specifically Lazer 103, which was the rock/metal station. My friends and I were smart enough by this time to realize that if we arranged our schedules right, we could all be in open study hall at the same time, and it was awesome. We got into our routines, with mine being that every day I would buy a hot pretzel with mustard and a Capri Sun, and we'd hang out, sometimes doing homework but mostly hanging out. While it wasn't a new song, it's always been a popular song, and for whatever reason, this song played on Lazer pretty much every day at 10:50. So much that it would come on and one of us would look at our watch or the clock. It was uncanny.

"Farm on the Freeway" by Jethro Tull

Jethro Tull had been around as a rock, progressive rock, and/or blues rock band since the late 60s, which is why when their album "Crest of a Knave" came out, and won the Grammy for Best Metal/Hard Rock album, beating out Metallica, it was infamously bizarre. Not only was it not a very heavy album, it was far from their best or most heavy album, and it kind of sucked. The significance of this song is, it was the single off of the album, and because of the Grammy Award, Lazer played the song all the time, usually right before or right after "Barracuda." All the rest of the songs that hour could be different, but those two songs would almost always play, at the same time, every day.

"Deck the Halls" by Havokk

You have likely never heard this song, and you haven't already you're never going to, because it was never recorded. Actually only two people in the world have heard this song, and I'm one of them, the other one is my friend John, who co-wrote it with me. We were in the Madrigal play at our high school, and after practice one night, or maybe it was the cast party we skipped out on, we decided to go back to his place and watch slasher movies and let the world do without us for a while. At one point we did a spoof version of "Deck the Halls" on a slasher theme, complete with references to "The Texas Chain Saw Massacre." It was easy and fun and we had way too many verses. When we had had enough John said, "That's it, we're forming a band." It was, unbeknownst to me, a goal of his before he got out of high school. My own goals other than to graduate were to have a girlfriend and letter in something, so I'd have something to show for 4 years of misery beside the diploma. We both achieved our goals. That band was Havokk.

"Roadkill" by Havokk

We didn't sign with anyone, we never recorded a formal album, we didn't even play any gigs, though a couple times people showed up while we were practicing in a garage or basement. But we recorded most of our practices, and we had a ton of songs, written by me and/or John. The band split up when we graduated, but we reformed with a couple new members as "Dark Prophet" in college.

"School's Out" by Alice Cooper

My senior year, I had one plan - graduate, and play this song on the last day. I did both.

"Losing My Religion" by R.E.M.

The summer after my freshman year of college I was working at Bartz's Partyland, which was a pretty easy gig. They were never crazy busy, we didn't have to wear an embarrassing uniform, the pay was okay for baseline retail, and I was able to start and stop work early enough on any given day to be able to have a social life. The worst part, really, was the music. The in-store radio was supposed to be on 94 WKTI only. That was the Top 40 station, and this song was the new hit at the time. I very quickly and sadly learned that "Top 40" isn't even 40 songs. Oh hell, no. It was often 20, played over and over again, all fucking day. It got to the point where I had to know exactly how many songs I was being subjected to, how often. I started carrying a legal pad, and I wrote down the names of the songs and put hash marks by the names every time I heard one. I remember liking this song initially. But there were days when it was on 3 times IN AN HOUR, and it was definitely on every hour, no exception. It got so bad I took a chance and changed the radio to the classic rock station. People were happy with the switch. No one noticed for a few blissful hours, but then the manager, a tiny woman with breath so uniquely bad I can still smell and taste it (it was like fish and chalk), got wise and changed it back. While I had planned to stay after school started, the music led to me quitting at the end of summer.

"Janie's Got a Gun" by Aerosmith

Freshman year of college I had a night class (Astronomy), and there was time enough between my last day class and that night class that I would sometimes go home (I was a commuter) and then go to the night class. That's what happened on this particular night. I was driving in for class, and American troops had been in Kuwait for some time, as part of "Operation: Desert Shield", to prevent the Iraqis from invading further. But we were just sitting there. This song was playing on the radio, on Lazer 103, when the DJ broke in and said, "Active fighting has begun in Iraq. The Defense Department is now calling this 'Opeartion: Desert Storm'." The live feed from CNN could be heard in the background, with missiles launching and shots firing.

I didn't learn much Astronomy that night. I sat in class wondering if I'd be drafted. I thought of all the recruiters who had called me the last year or two of high school, all the way up until I started college. It was almost every day. When I got out of class I went home and talked to my dad about options. He and his brother had been in the Army Reserves during Viet Nam, but my mom's brother had been drafted and gone off to fight. I didn't want to be a draft dodger, but I didn't want to get killed, either. Dad assured me that after Viet Nam, there probably wouldn't be a draft again. I decided that if there was a draft, I'd enlist in the Navy. Iraq is in the desert. I'd be safe in a boat.

Of course years later that wouldn't have been a good plan. When we went back to Iraq, and to Afghanistan, there was such a demand for troops that they sent Navy sailors to fight on the ground. I know a naval trainer who's assigned to some desert shithole right now. The only water around is in his canteen.

"Come Sail Away" by Styx

Yes by 1990 I had had enough of new music for the most part, and I discovered our local Classic Rock station, which was distinctly different from the Oldies station (Oldies was at the time 50s and 60s. Classic rock was 60s and 70s). I was so turned off of current music that I took that channel out of my car stereo. They never played anything I wanted to hear anymore. Not long after, I rarely played the radio at all, I just kept a huge number of tapes in my car. On one notable trip, I took my grandparents up on the offer to "Stop by for dinner any time. Bring a little friend. Just let us know a day in advance." By "little friend" I knew what they meant. I could have brought one of my guy friends. They had met most of them, and my friends thought they were cool, but what my grandparents were hoping was I'd show up with a girl. And one day I did. Two of them. It was a two hour drive down there, and along the way I remember playing this song, as well as my other favorite music at the time. Both girls were in my group of college friends, and I was trying to decide between them. They were both hot, both smart, both funny. Neither of them listened to stuff that annoyed me, neither of them wanted to go to dance clubs or do other annoying shit. It was a tough call. So we went to Grandma's as friends. I figured if they could handle some hard core Italians and the Italians could handle them it would say a lot. I got friend zoned by one, got engaged to the other.

"Don't Give Up" by Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush

Like all couples, my girlfriend and I had "our song." This song was big at the time, as were all of the songs off of Peter Gabriel's "So" album. This one was "us" more than anything else. As much as I'd hated school before then, college was no picnic either. I had a lot more fun, but it was tough. I was figuring out life, figuring out myself, just like probably everyone at that age. My girlfriend largely knew who she was and what she was doing. She was pretty low drama. So a lot of the time, she was just giving me a compass so I could find which way to go, and the encouragement to get up in the morning and try all day.

"Dead Bodies" by Dark Prophet

As noted earlier, Dark Prophet was my second band, largely a continuation of Havokk with a different drummer and guitarist. Still a thrash metal band with a lot of slasher themes. Unless you were in the band, you've never heard this song, and while we recorded practices, I don't know if this one ever made it to tape. The significance is, we were practicing at our drummer Kyle's house when news broke that a number of bodies or parts of bodies had been found in a Milwaukee man's apartment. This made for excellent song material, so I wrote the song "Dead Bodies." As further details of the case were released, we didn't really want to play the song anymore. There was slasher movie fun, then there was reality, and this was the latter. This news event became known as the Jeffrey Dahmer case, and it turned out that not only had Dahmer taken one of his victims from the bus stop in front of my school's student union, his apartment building was on the school's list of recommended off-campus housing. For me and many of my friends, it was a bit too close for comfort.

"Head Like a Hole" by Nine Inch Nails

One of my friends in college was heavy into alternative and industrial music, which I had no exposure to since I had given up on new music. We went to Madison to see Pink Floyd in concert on what would be their last concert to date. On the way home, he popped this tape in the player. It fit perfectly with my perspective and feelings of the time. I asked him probably 5 or 10 times in the coming weeks who this was, until I finally tracked down the album. Once I had it, it rarely if ever left my car.

"Locomotive Breath" by Jethro Tull

I had been a Jethro Tull fan for years but had never seen them in concert. After graduation, I saw several with my fiancee, but the first time I went to a show alone was a double bill of Jethro Tull and Emerson, Lake, and Palmer at Milwaukee's Marcus Amphitheatre. Good show. It was the anniversary tour of the Aqualung album, and this was my favorite track from the album.Aside from seeing the show on my own, it was noteworthy because at that show I met my friend Kevin, who went on to become one of my best friends and, for the past 10 years, frequent co-author and publisher.

"Misirlou" by Dick Dale and the Del-Tones

Though I was engaged first, my friend John was the first of us to get married, and I was best man at his wedding. For his bachelor party, we went to see Dick Dale perform at Milwaukee's Shank Hall. Dale was still on a hot streak after this song appeared in "Pulp Fiction." We shook Dick's hand after the show and I told him that John was getting married and this was his bachelor party. Dick said, "Getting married? Oh no, why would you want to do that? Congratulations and good luck!" Excellent show, unforgettable night, despite how much we drank.

"I Alone" by Live

As I said earlier, I went to several concerts with my college girlfriend, later fiancee'. This was one of them. I wouldn't have listened to Live if it wasn't for her. They were a good band, and it was a good show. But I can't really listen to the song anymore, or rarely do. Not too long after, it was the beginning of the end. She wanted to take a break, and started dating some pilot douche. While the song is a good song, it's linked too closely to her, and the song hit too close to home.

"The Only One" by Melissa Etheridge

Melissa Etheridge finally broke through into mainstream music at the time and I liked what I heard enough that I went to go see her live in what was the only other time I've seen a concert alone. No light show, no effects, but still one of the best shows I've ever seen. Like "I Alone", the song largely marks where I was at that point. For several years in school I had been part of a large group of people, and within that group a rock solid couple that continued after graduation. Now I was on my own and not liking it. My ex ended up ditching the pilot douche and getting back together with me, then we split again, and she was with the pilot again. I changed coasts and that was that. One girl came out to visit me from back home. It wasn't her.

"The Real Me" by the Who

I had been a Who fan since seeing them live in 1989. I saw them again on the Quadrophenia tour in 1997, by which point they were one of my favorite bands. When I found myself dating again, it meant I had to go to bars and clubs. Bars I can handle, clubs suck. It also meant I'd be around people who might have shitty musical taste. For these reasons, "Quadrophenia" was never out of my car for long. When I was exposed to shitty music for any length of time I'd put it on and blast that crap right out of my head. This was the case when I dated a coworker who only listened to "happy music." She had the depth of a contact lens. One night we were leaving work and her car was next to mine at the stop light. I heard whatever lame-ass pabulum she was listening to coming out of her window as I caught her looking at me with a creepy smile. I put this tape on in the car, rolled down all the windows and turned the volume up until my ears rang. There are three songs I think of as my personal theme songs. This is one of them

"I'm One" by the Who

I remember playing the "Quadrophenia" album on my Walkman in college and the song is so quiet, it can barely be noticed at first, but it always resonated with me, and I'd always check the song list to see what it was. I did this every single time, amazed at the lines and the feeling of this simple song. It's the second of my personal theme songs, the one that stands in stark contrast to "The Real Me." The former is me as angry young man and force of destruction. That side of me isn't seen too often, so rarely that some people thought it wasn't there. Oh it's there. I used to keep a sledgehammer behind my office door for a reason. This song is for the other side, the quiet, sensitive, creative guy who's wondering if he'll ever make it.

"Love Reign O'er Me" by the Who

This song is the climax to the "Quadrophenia" album. Pretty much the whole album is about teenage angst, and when you're still full of angst in your 20s, 30s, and later, it still works. By the time you get to the end you've screamed, sung, and howled out everything, and this song lets you do all three at once. It was also a reflection of the last time my now-ex and I were together, standing in front of open windows while it rained in the living room, happy to be together again.

"Add it Up" by the Violent Femmes

The Femmes have been in more soundtracks than I can remember, and they were a fixture of Milwaukee music throughout the 80s and 90s. When I moved to the East Coast and felt home sick, an easy fix was to pop in their music, and there I'd be, in any given bar, or maybe at one of their shows. This was always one of my favorites, and it fit my rather bitter mindset at the time.

"My Size" by John Entwistle

As with Genesis, once I became a fan of the Who I wanted to track down all of their music, and all of their solo recordings, which was a bit of a challenge. This was the lead song off of Who bassist John Entwistle's first solo record, "Smash Your Head Against the Wall." I was in love with it right away, so much that I put it on a mix tape I'd listen to when I was in a bad mood. The first girlfriend I had after splitting from my ex was also a dark and bitter person, and she and I would put that mix tape on and rock out to this.

"A Little is Enough" by Pete Townshend

I had never liked dating. Hated it really. Too many variables, and I didn't like the places I'd have to go to meet people, nor the people I'd meet when I did go out. However, one night I begrudgingly went out with friends and met a beautiful, smart, blonde who had my immediate attention. She liked me, and she agreed to go out with me, and I was terrified I'd screw it up. I'd play this song before, after, and in-between dates to keep myself going. I told myself that I could keep my shit together, that girl would be mine.

"Drive" by The Cars

Not long after we'd been dating I drove my new girlfriend back to her friend's apartment, where she was staying. Just before we got there, this song played on the tape we were listening to. She was entranced. When we got there, she asked me to play it again as we held hands. We played it three times before she got out of the car. It's still our song.

"The Way You Look Tonight" by Frank Sinatra

Our wedding was small, but joyous, with friends and family largely relaxing to dinner and a soundtrack we had picked ourselves, mixed as a wedding present to us by our friend Doug. All jazz and blues, namely Billie Holiday and Frank Sinatra, leaning heavily on Sinatra's "Reprise" compilation. This song will always be our wedding song for me.

"Thankless Bastard" by Pat McCurdy

Like the Violent Femmes, Pat McCurdy is a Milwaukee institution. My friends and I saw him frequently in the 90s, and I had picked up several of his albums, which served me well when I was on the East Coast, where he rarely plays. My wife became a fan from me playing his music around the house and in the car, particularly this song, which she still talks about from time to time.

"Baba O'Riley" by The Who

When my wife got pregnant, it became apparent pretty quickly that the baby was a music fan. We almost always had music on, and he wouldn't typically react. However one morning I got up and put on the "Who's Next" album, which starts off with this song. From our bedroom I heard my wife say, "What is that? I like it, but turn it off! The baby is going nuts! He's kicking the shit out of me!"

"The Nutcracker Suite" by Tchaikovsky

Since we were living in the DC area, my wife and I decided to see the Nutcracker at the famous Kennedy Center, which wasn't easy because she was very pregnant. So we caught a matinee for lower ticket prices and smaller crowds, and loved it. The baby also loved it, or at least the first half. He bopped around in her belly for most of those songs, but settled down for the second half, which admittedly isn't as interesting.

"Pinball Wizard" by the Who

The night our son was born, and the day that led up to it, had many vivid memories. The one I liked the most was when I got to wheel him from the delivery room to the nursery, just me and him. All the hard work was done, and as I pushed him down the tiled hall, I sang this to him softly, the first song he heard outside the womb.

"Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay" by Otis Redding

The morning after our son was born, when both he and my wife were awake, he was brought into her room and she held him. Since she was pregnant she looked forward to holding him and singing him this song, and it finally happened. She had always loved the song, and knowing Otis Redding was from her hometown in Georgia made the song a bit sweeter and more special.

"Born to Run" by Bruce Springsteen

When we had the baby home we continued playing music pretty much constantly. Pictures of our apartment at the time typically show three things: him and his baby stuff, CDs, and books. When we weren't playing music, one of us was singing to him. I used to sing this one to him.

"Boris the Spider" by the Who

I sang this one to him, too, and taught myself how to play it on guitar. That was all fine and good until my wife actually heard what the lyrics are. Then she asked me not to sing it to the baby anymore. There's a grim line in there about seeing the spider and crushing him until he's "embedded in the ground."

"Hey Ya" by Outkast

This was the first CD I ever bought for my wife. She asked me, "Who does that 'Hey Ya' song that's on all the time?" I had never heard it, which she found hard to believe. I asked her how the song goes. She said, "I don't know, they say 'Hey ya.'" So on a trip back to Milwaukee I went to Musicland at Brookfield Square and asked the girl at the counter, thinking she would have no idea, since the last time I asked for something fairly obvious (a Who CD, the same week they had a concert in town) she had no idea of the group or the concert. But, she walked over and handed it to me. Fun song, good album. "Roses" is better.

"The Man Comes Around" by Johnny Cash

I was still reading "Rolling Stone" from time to time, and reviews of new albums, movies, and books in the various newspapers and magazines I read. I was intrigued to learn that Johnny Cash had a new album coming out consisting of mainly covers (American IV The Man Comes Around), including one of "Hurt" by Nine Inch Nails. I mistakenly picked up American III first, which featured Tom Petty on much of the record, and it was excellent. Then American IV came out and I was blown away. "Hurt" of course was a smash hit featuring a video the revitalized his career. But this, the title track, became one of my favorite songs of all time.

"Christmas" by The Who

As I said earlier, I became a Who fan in 1989 when my friend Kyle took me to see them in concert. I had no idea now many songs I already liked that they played. That was the 20th anniversary tour of their landmark rock opera "Tommy", which became a favorite album of mine. I got the movie on VHS (as well as the 1989 tour video), and picked up every obscure version of "Tommy" I could find, including the book and CD of the Broadway musical, which I saw in both Chicago and Milwaukee. This song comes from the "Tommy" album, and is about how difficult it is for Tommy, who's deaf, dumb, and blind, to enjoy holidays like the other kids.

This song took on new meaning when our son was diagnosed with regressive autism at age 3. He had been very advanced in terms of language and coordination, then suddenly not only did he not learn new words, he lost some. It was a devastating blow, and suddenly this song took on new meaning. I was amazed that composer Pete Townshend could write such a thing in 1969, when autism was essentially unheard of. It resonated with me so much that I wrote to him. I don't know if he ever saw what I wrote, I never heard back.

"Over the Hills and Far Away" by Led Zeppelin

I had never been a huge Zeppelin fan. I had most but not quite all of their albums on cassette, but I wasn't a mega-fan. But I had heard sections of their forthcoming live album, "How the West Was Won", recorded in the 70s, on the radio and it sounded fantastic, so I picked it up. My son and I were going out on errands and he was sitting in the back in his car seat. I put on the CD, cued up this song, as we drove slowly through the neighborhood. I pulled out onto the main road and one of my wheels skidded on some road sand. I gunned the engine and the tire squealed as it caught the pavement, just as the loud part of the song kicked in. Between the revving of the engine and the change in the song, my son got very excited. I looked back and saw him headbanging like a rocker, something he had never seen done, he just did it on his own. From that point on we always put that album on when we went out. He loved it.

"The Musical Box" by Genesis

In addition to the autism diagnosis our family was affected by layoffs at work. Things were really not good in any way.

While I had all of Genesis' albums, I never paid much attention to their early song, "The Musical Box," from the Peter Gabriel era, though it's considered a masterpiece. It's really long and tends to lose my interest. However, it's common on their live albums to do a medley of the old songs, and I was listening to that medley, which includes just the end of "The Musical Box", and I was struck by the desperation in it. I played the song again and again, learning the words, and started playing that song in the car whenever I had a bad day, screaming out the song until I was hoarse and sometimes sweaty.

"Mr. Bad Example" by Warren Zevon

I had of course heard "Werewolves of London" on the radio plenty of times, particularly around Halloween, and years earlier I had bought the album it came from "Excitable Boy" on cassette. Great album with a lot of good songs on it. Many years later I was able to borrow a newer album Zevon had done, "Mr. Bad Example" so I could see what he sounded like 20 years later. I was blown away by the entire album. The stories and dark humor showed me that Zevon was a kindred spirit. He sang about subjects in blatant terms that others would only refer to vaguely, if at all. The title track became what I think of as my third theme song.

"My Kind of Town" by Frank Sinatra

My entire family is from Chicago. And while some of us have moved away, and I've lived in other places, I still think of it as my first home. Whenever I can, I play this song when I return to the Chicago area. If I don't have a way to play it, I'll sing it, or think of it.

"Rehab" by Amy Winehouse

When my grandmother started having problems, she was in and out of the hospital, or later hospice. The next to last time we saw her, which was the last time I went with my wife and son to see her, it was pretty rough. A friend had given me the new CD "Back to Black" by Amy Winehouse, and we listened to it several times through on the way to the hospital. At one point we went out to just sit in the car for a bit so our son could have some snacks, and we played the album again before going in. I love the album, but it will always be tied to that day, knowing Grandma would be gone soon.

"Heroes" by David Bowie

This particular performance of the song is from the Concert for New York City, which my wife and I watched live a month or so after 9/11. It was an amazing concert, and this song was particularly good. Years later, despite loving music as a toddler, our son didn't want to hear music for a long time. All music annoyed or overwhelmed him. As I wrote in a poem I published later, on the 4th of July I was in my office, writing and playing music quietly on my laptop. Songs that reflected the day. One of them was this song. When it was over, my son spoke to me from his room, asking what it was. I told him, and then heard it playing from his iPad a few moments later.

"Couldn't Stand the Weather" by Stevie Ray Vaughn

Slowly my son came to enjoy music again. On yet another trip to Chicago I introduced him to the music of Stevie Ray Vaughn, with the "Couldn't Stand the Weather" album. We probably played it three times on that trip.

SRV's music always takes me back to one of the most notable concerts I've seen. The two-day "Blues Fest" featuring Eric Clapton, Robert Cray, Jeff Healy, and Stevie Ray Vaughn, we saw the first night of the show. I only knew SRV from his latest album, "Crossfire" which was getting heavy play on radio and MTV. Stevie Ray stole the show, which prompted me to go to the music store the next day and pick up as many of his albums as I could find. He died in a helicopter crash after the second show that night.

"Drum Duet" by Genesis

My son had an interest in drums, and this CD was in our rotation on the aforementioned trip to Chicago. Phil Collins and Chester Thompson, who both drum for Genesis on tours, have long done various duets on tour, which have appeared on at least two live albums. We listened to this one, and my son asked to hear it two or three times in a row.

"Sing Sing Sing" by Buddy Rich and Max Roach

This song, and the album it comes from, have a lot of significance. When I finally developed an interest in jazz, I went to a music store near my office in DC and told the store owner, who suggested "Sketches of Spain" by Miles Davis, and "Rich vs. Roach" by drummers Buddy Rich and Max Roach. I instantly loved the latter, I had to grow into the former, which is pretty much what the store owner said would be the case.

When our son became interested in drums, I played this album for him and he wanted to hear it frequently. He would say, "I want to hear drums" which meant either this album or the Genesis live album.

When he died suddenly, we played this album at his memorial service.

"Like a Hurricane" by Neil Young

For my birthday and Christmas before he died, our son gave me a bunch of CDs, which meant my wife or I bought and wrapped them, and he handed them to me. Neil Young's "Rust Never Sleeps" was one of them, which he also took back from me not long after I opened them. He had good taste. This song was also played at his service.

"Over the Rainbow" by "Iz"

My wife had heard this song on a movie or tv commercial, it's been used a number of times, and she loved it so much she asked me to find the album, so I did, and it's a great album. She and our son played it many times and they would talk about it together. She would also watch the video on YouTube. Iz is a legendary Hawaiian singer who died young. The video is of his funeral and tribute service, in which his ashes were scattered in the ocean. It was the song we played at the end of our son's memorial service.

"The Indifference of Heaven" by Warren Zevon

Following his death, which was in a cold, awful winter, we were broken. As with that blizzard I mentioned when I was high school decades earlier, there was little to do but just sit inside. I couldn't write, I didn't want to listen to music or do anything. Life was just getting up, doing basic life functions, and staring, trying to process what had happened. Finally, I decided to start listening to the pile of CDs my son had given me. One of them was a live Warren Zevon album, "Learning to Flinch," which included this song I'd never heard before. I played it again and again, astounded by how beautiful and poignant it was. By that time Zevon had also been dead a few years, though when he wrote the song he didn't even know he was sick yet. Listening to that song gradually brought me to the point where I could function, and even write again.

"Ace of Spades" by Motorhead

Ironically when I was actually in a metal band, I didn't listen to hard rock or metal or even like it that much. I was usually listening to The Beatles. Roughly 30 years later I heard about a documentary about Motorhead founder, singer, and bassist Lemmy. I watched it and loved it and all the music. I tracked down this iconic album, which has remained in my rotation ever since, particularly when I'm at a business conference or any other place where, as when I was at clubs and bars in my dating years, I'm exposed to insipid, dull, mindless people and content in large doses. It tends to suck at my soul and make me very cranky. When that is the disease, this song is the cure.