Eggs And Sausage (In A Cadillac With Susan Michelson). “All the gypsy hacks, the insomniacs/Now the paper’s been read/Now the waitress said/Eggs and sausage and a side of toast/Coffee and a roll, hash browns over easy/Chili in a bowl with burgers and fries/What kind of pie?” Still my most enduring memory of Tom Waits is his scratchy voice in a jukebox by the bridge in the center of Cork.

Electric Guitar. This is a crime against the state.

The Element Within Her. This one and others on Punch the Clock helped me enjoy Madrid in 1983. I never charmed the birds right out of the trees, but I did wonder what do I do with these.

Emma’s Song. Is there any more beautiful song?

Emotional Rescue. Not the best Stones period, but “Emotional Rescue” proved a perfect title for the issue of my journal focused on pathologies facing college students.

The End Of The Rainbow. Best depressing song of all time. “Every loving handshake is just another man to beat.”

Every Little Thing. For every little thing I did to hurt you, there’s another tearstain in your face, another trace of anger in your eyes. I also liked the Beatles’ “Every Little Thing” as a kid, mostly because of the big drum. But T-Bone has a special place partly because of the great show I saw him do in Salem the night before brother Tim’s wedding.

Exodus. The Bob Marley classic of course. But I’m also hooked on the MIA song: “My blood type is no negative/But I’m positive that I’m too deep.”

Eye of Fatima (Pt. 1). “And this here’s a government experiment and we’re driving like Hell/To give some cowboys some acid and to stay in motels/We’re going to eat up some wide open spaces /Like it was a cruise on the Nile/Take the hands off the clock, we’re going to be here a while.” The Camper Van Beethoven/Cracker phenom has a special place.