In 2019, I blogged that “in case I don’t live to see the book on my playlist published, here are a few of the passages under B” and then, “given our linear times,” previewed C, with the promise that I’d get to A later. Now’s later. Here’s A. (BTW, several entries under A bring me back to listening to music as a kid with my older brothers.)

A Day In The Life. When I was a child, my brother Bill pointed out all the nuances in this song, including the long piano chord at the end. Not to mention all those holes in Blackburn Lancashire. And hearing the news today (oh boy).

Achin’ To Be. “She closes her mouth to speak and closes her eyes to see.” Paul Westerberg’s lyrics seem to stay with me. Bastards of Young, “Beat’s pickin’ cotton and waitin to be forgotten” and Little Mascara, “You nap ’em and you slap ’em in a highchair” to Left of the Dial, “Pretty girl keep growin’ up, playin’ make-up, wearin’ guitar,” Askng Me Lies, “Tellin’ you questions/Askin’ me lies.” Still, one of my favorites is his cover of “Another Girl, Another Planet.” One I used to sing to Cath as part of a go to sleep/wake up routine along with the Beatles “I’m Only Sleeping” and Talking Heads “Uh Oh Love Comes to Town.”

The Acid Queen. From the Who’s Tommy, the Opera, or as I called it when my brother was scheduled for surgery, the “Opera-ation.”

Acrobat. “Don’t let the bastards grind you down.” Sometimes, Bono is more than a chore and a celebrity whore.

Across The Great Divide. The Band brings me right back to growing up in Beverly, fall and pickup football for reasons I can’t put my finger on. I remember them on the cover of Time magazine and one of my brothers calling Robbie Robertson “Jamie Jobbie Robinson.” I had seen him in “Carny.” I have friends who resent the way he treated other Band members. Saw fellow Band member Levon Helm, already treated for throat cancer, play in Lowell. And enjoyed Elvis Costello playing The Band-Dylan-written “This Wheel’s on Fire” at the Newport Folk (yes, folk) Festival, where a legendary (and unbearable) Pete Seeger sang the finale.

Across The Wire. A Calexico tale with only more meaning under Trumpian xenophobia.

Act Naturally. Like all Ringo songs, I tended to skip over this one when my brothers brought home Help! I was more interested in poppy songs like “You’re Gonna Lose that Girl.” But Ringo’s take on Act Naturally has grown on me, as has the country feel of Act Naturally writer “Johnny” Russell. “We’ll make a film about a man that’s sad and lonely/And all I gotta do is act naturally.”

Advice For Teenagers. “You’ve got to think how you want to think.” No one feels as fun as NRBQ. Fortunate to see them many times, most memorably playing at Boston’s old Bradford Hotel, opening for John Sebastian, and playing a lunchtime show in the lobby of South Station to a crowd primarily of dancing kids with Down Syndrome. Also Captain Lou … though I’ll always associated the “Guiding Light” with my mother’s soap operas.

After The Fall. “She said you never visit the countryside/So I’ve made you a country to order/She put up a little tent in the bedroom/Crickets played on a tape-recorder/The ceiling was festooned with phosphorous stars/She noticed his skin turning cold/Burning all his clothes on the bonfire/Relax she whispered and tightened the blindfold.”

After The Gold Rush. “I was thinking about what a friend had said, I was hoping it was a lie.” Young when my brother told me this Neil Young line was about drugs. Like the Lennon stuff of the time. It turned out to be just a cultural revolution I was vaguely witnessing.

Alabama Song. Show me the way to the next little dollar.” A Bertolt Brecht classic “refined” by the Doors and later Bowie. Also loved Brecht’s “Baal” from Bowie … “Baal can spot the vultures in the stormy sky/As they wait up there to see if Baal will die/Sometimes Baal pretends he’s dead, but vultures swoop/Baal in silence dines on vulture soup.”

All The Roadrunning. Could there be a better duo than Mark Knopfler and Emmylou Harris? Well, maybe Emmylou and Gram Parsons doing “Love Hurts.” Or even Keith Richard and Norah Jones doing “Love Hurts.” Or Shane MacGowan and Sinead O’Connor doing “Haunted.”

All The Way From America. Joan Armatrading moves  powerfully from strong to sweet. I remember nephew Steve and debating where the emphasis should fall in her last name. And later trying to explain to Tracy Chapman fans, “You should really listen to a little Joan Armatrading.”

All You Need Is Love. A bit overplayed but full of memories … Brother Bill noting that “Greensleeves” played at the end, which I still don’t know, and my marveling at the “She Loves You” reprise. It was an anthem of sorts, played on TV when little rock music was. And Lennon: “Nothing you can make that can’t be made/No one you can save that can’t be saved.”

Amazing. Paraphrased this in an early card to Joanne: “Since I met you/My life’s amazing.”

American Tune. “I don’t know a soul who’s not been battered /I don’t have a friend who feels at ease/I don’t know a dream that’s not been shattered/or driven to its knees.” From “There Goes Rhymin’ Simon,” one of the first albums I got hooked on. Also a line referring to being “bright and bon vivant.” (Never thought of bon vivant as anything but bright until recently editing a writer who implied it as a career-killing way to look at college.) There Goes also included “Was a Sunny Day’s” tantalizing line referencing an early rocker: “She called him speedo, but his Christian name was Mr. Earl.” Favorite though was “Loves Me Like a Rock” with Dixie Hummingbirds.

And It Stoned Me. Always thought it was “stung” me, which is ironic cos I was probably stoned when I was hearing it.

Angel. Camper Van Beethoven’s remake of the entire “Tusk” album originally by Fleetwood Mac may be the best experiment in the history of pop.

Angie. My memory is of my friend Knightie doing Mick so convincingly on this one. And my later finding out that Angie was Angela Bowie.

Another Brick in the Wall. I tried to play on this Pink Floyd title for a headline “Another Brick in the Fall?” about the scintillating subject of deferred maintenance on college campuses. The author asked: “Should the title be Another Brick in the Wall or did you really mean ‘Fall.’ It’s catchy either way, although I wanted to not make this a doom and gloom article …” Typical sentiment of too many of the authors I worked with. Anyway, I noted that I was trying to echo the sentiment that a lot of commentators saw higher ed in “Falling” mode, but I ultimately caved. (Unfortunately, higher ed kept falling.)

Apeman. “I don’t feel safe in this world no more/I don’t want to die in a nuclear war.” I refused to believe the Kinks could be on a par with the Beatles and Stones as a child when Tim brought home their albums. But they became a favorite as a teenager. I introduced them to some schoolmates who didn’t know much of music. (I also introduced them to the  less-enduring Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band.) The Kinks later made a resurgence with me. Especially “Waterloo Sunset” (including cover by Bowie), “Victoria” (From the rich to the poor/Victoria fucked them all”) and “Village Green Preservation Society.”

Apple Scruffs. A memory from George Harrison’s “All Things Must Pass” album. About Beatles groupies. Eclipsed by the beautiful “Beware of Darkness” and “Johnnie’s Birthday,” which Tim dutifully played on the morning of my bday growing up.

Arpan. I could listen to Anoushka Shankar and sitars forever.

As Tears Go By. “It is the evening of the day.”

Avalon. Someone noted that by this album, there was hardly any evidence of rock and roll in the work of Roxy Music. Avalon and the few albums before it are beautiful in a classical sense, and continue to portray Roxy’s smoking-jacket grace. I recall Robert Fripp in a show at the Paradise Theater, playing too little guitar but giving guests a heads-up that Bryan Ferry was coming to Boston soon, and adding that yes, he has “very good pipes.”