A few weeks ago I posted a list of 25 songs which impacted my life and development in some profound way.
      What I did not provide to my loyal online readers were back-stories to any of these tracks, or any real explanation as to why the songs mattered to me.
      So here it is, condensed to five songs and expanded to include a reason or two behind them. Also note that this list is autobiographical, so the songs are listed in the order of my own personal discovery.
      1. "Lazybones" by Leon Redbone.
      Long before I knew what a guitar was, or who was topping the charts on any given week, I would spend my weekends on a houseboat on Coralville Reservoir near Iowa City. My grandfather owned the boat and took great pride in having his grandkids out for the weekend.
      I was a particularly restless child, and had a hard time staying still on the half hour drive down to the lake. But for some reason whenever I started acting up, grandpa would pop in a tape of Leon Redbone. The strange man in a white suit and dark glasses, croaking out ballads about the south, fascinated me. This is the first time I knew the name of an artist, and my first time with the folksy Americana music that I continue to love to this day.
      2. "The Boxer" by Simon and Garfunkel.
      This one came straight out of my parents' record collection. Though my mother disliked much of the psychedelic and hard rock of the '60s, folk was OK. Peter, Paul and Mary, the Mommas and the Pappas, John Denver, Neil Diamond and Simon and Garfunkel were easy to find.
      Paul Simon's ability to mix politics and fantasy, and his chops as a storyteller, thrilled me. Within "The Boxer," we witness firsthand the rise and fall of a whole culture and are guided through this tale of destruction with the soft touch of heavenly harmonies.
      3. Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin.
      If Simon and Garfunkel was ok in my house, Led Zepplin represented everything that was wrong with music. I was raised to fear Zepplin as "Satan rock," music only druggies and drop-outs listened to. You can imagine my surprise the first time I heard "Stairway to Heaven" for the first time.
      It was late at night during a class trip to Kansas City my seventh grade year. To cut cost, we camped out on the shores and a lake outside town. A group of maybe 10 of us stayed up late, huddled around a camp fire as the adults moved in and out of tents on rounds.
      One of the eighth graders, a tough kid named Tyman who was known to go sneaking off behind the baseball dugout for a smoke on a daily basis, brought an ancient looking tape player to the fire that night and played Led Zepplin Four.
      This is a fundamental turning point. The atmosphere, the music and the huddled crew came together to spark something in my head. I changed from an appreciator of music to something else, something more sinister, and more closely resembling obsession.
      4. "Runaway Train" by Soul Asylum.
      Not long after the night by the fire, I talked my parents into letting me take guitar lessons. My teacher was a guy named Matt who played in a country music cover band and loved Stevie Ray Vaughn.
      Soul Asylum and the grunge movement were all over the airwaves in the early '90s, fueled by the success of Nirvana, Pearl Jam and the Seattle music scene. The rudimentary chords and sing-a-long chorus made "Runaway Train" the perfect song to learn in the first few weeks of lessons. It was the first song I ever learned by heart, and played it long after popular radio had forgotten this little band from Minneapolis.
      5. "Giant Steps" by John Coltrane.
      Ironically, the oldest track on my list came to my attention long after everything else here.
      I started collecting records for (at least) two reasons. 1) Everybody needs to collect something, so I settled on records. 2) By shopping at secondhand stores and garage sales, I could get hold of all the classic rock I wanted without paying $17 a pop for the CDs.
      I started getting into Jazz someplace along the way, and really fell in love with the music thanks to "Kind of Blue" by Miles Davis. John Coltrane was a saxophonist on those sessions, and even within the context of the smooth tones on that record.
      While riffling through a rack at the Salvation Army one afternoon, I found "Giant Steps" by Coltrane. Later that evening I took the album back to the apartment and put it on. The wild swings and near-noise of the whole thing blew me away. This was not the assessable, elevator-friendly tunes I thought Jazz was. This was raw, and angry and as drug-fueled as any Zeppelin record.
      I loved it, and hated it, at the same time. I didn't know what to think, but I knew it was something to hold onto. It's a great record.
      And that's it. I wrap up this self-indulgent tryst with one honorable mention. No special stories, but one of my favorite songs has been and remains: "Love Will Tear Us Apart" by Joy Division. It likely has something to do with my personality.