Part Seven as I pick two songs from every year of my life based on the songs that were important to me at the time or have had a lasting impact on the me. The ground rules are in the first entry. Rest of the list is here.

1988
“Fast Car” - Tracy Chapman
A perfect recording of a perfect performance of a perfect song. God knows how long I went without hearing it, but some time in 2005 or '06 it came on the radio and I swear chills came over me. One of the more amazing - and underrated - debut albums, I added "Tracy Chapman"  to regular rotation.  I remember seeing her play solo and think performers without bands have a resonance that those who use a band don't achieve. Then Sinead O'Connor came to these shores and I changed my mind.

“Fisherman's Blues” - The Waterboys
Mike Scott's one masterpiece, a Celtic vision of Dylan and the Band's “Basement Tapes.” Expanded edition of the album belongs in everyone's collection.

1989
“Little Floater” - NRBQ
Soon after I met the woman who would become my wife, I made a mixtape but did not include a song list. She said she loved the “zoom zoom song,” which had me mystified for a little while. When I realized it was the Q song, I knew she had good taste. I saw NRBQ twice in the early 1980s and thought they were OK; saw them about 20 times between 1987 and 1993 and thought they were one of the best bands in the world.

“I Won't Back Down” - Tom Petty
Tom Petty's music has been a bond in my relationships with my wife and younger daughter. My favorite show of his took place in San Francisco at the Fillmore during a 20-odd concert run. Two years ago, I caught two of his shows at opposite ends of the tour. First one, at Madison Square Garden, was professional and compact; second, at the Hollywood Bowl, was bolder, more nuanced and better paced. Evidence that bands can do the same show night after night and make some OK and some extraordinary.   

1990
“Loneliness Aint No Crime” - Barrence Whitfield & the Savages
My decade in New England was made tolerable by the abundance of fine bar bands that came out of Boston and there was no greater soul shouter - quite possibly in the U.S. - than Barrence Whitfield. (True story: His given name was Barry White.) The man could scream and sing, bounce between Sugarboy Crawford and Led Zeppelin and use every spot in a club for his own personal performance space. The Savages were a fine outfit, too, eventually carrying on without Barrence as Four Piece Suit.

“Put The Message in The Box” - World Party
One of the first bands I saw in Los Angeles after my return to California. Like his former bandmate Mike Scott of the Waterboys, World Party's Karl Wallinger is one of the few artists capable of combining Dylan and the Band with Beatles and producing something distinct. Had a lovely breakfast with him in Texas at which he told one of the craziest hard-luck stories ever.

1991
“Fall at Your Feet” - Crowded House
Neil Finn's melodies and vocals = The sound of heaven.

“My Eyes Keep Me in Trouble” - RL Burnside
A man who gave me faith in the blues, he worked hard, played hard and gave me a few good interviews. He seemed to be having a great time the last decade of his life. Hearing him tell his stories of plantation work made me realize how distanced we city folk are from a part of America that so many people believe has disappeared.

1992
“Tell Me You'll Be Waiting For Me” - Charles Brown
I was once consumed by Charles Brown, the most elegant bluesman ever. A Texan, classically trained with a penchant for the rococo, he defined West Coast blues of the late 1940s and early '50s before disappearing in the 1970s. Ray Charles emulated his style; admirers of his work with guitarist Johnny Moore included Eric Clapton, Bruce Springsteen and Bonnie Raitt. I wrote a semi-convoluted ,but mostly accurate, piece for L.A Weekly connecting the dots between recordings issued by the 1950s L.A. blues label Swingtime, Shirley Horn's interpretations of Brother Ray's songs and a Charles Brown album. His guitarist Danny Caron and Charles sent me the loveliest thank you letter. It was a compliment of the highest order and the beginning of a musician-journalist relationship that lasted until Charles died in 1999.

“Waiting for the Sun” - Jayhawks
Talk about a record that shoulda been a hit by  one of the best rock bands in America. “Hollywood Town Hall” was their masterpiece and this was the lead-off track. The shock really settled in three years later when "Blue," rich with sumptuous harmonies and a phenomenal refrain, failed to become a hit. One of the best songs of the decade.