—Mike Trash

The Erotics

‘Imagine” by John Lennon. No matter where I am when I hear that song I am struck by its emotional power. Whether it’s the sheer beauty of the melody, the message of the lyric, or the reminder of how unfair Lennon’s death was, I always have to fight back tears listening to it. Driving in my car the morning after 9/11, “Imagine” came on the radio. I remember sobbing during the prolonged silence that followed “. . . and the world will live as one.” Confessing to that makes me feel like I should go do something hopelessly macho, like chop wood, punch someone, vote Republican. Alright, maybe not.

—Brendan Pendergast

The Charlie Watts Riots

Ian McLagan and the Bump Band, “Itchycoo Park.” When “Itchycoo Park” by the Small Faces was a hit in the 1960s, it spun my teenage head around. Ian McLagan recorded this new version in tribute to the late Ronnie Lane, the song’s writer and his bandmate. His piano-based performance brings out the spiritual heart of the song and makes me take stock of where I am, where I’ve been and where I’m going. It stops me in my tracks.

—David Greenberger

Metroland

At 16, I was romance. Mullet, zits, biker jacket, 78 Regal, homely girlfriend. . . . I was the man. Then, she was gone. Driving home, drowning my sorrows in The Metal, “Burning Heart” by Vandenberg came on the stereo. I pulled over and cried like a schoolgirl with a skinned knee. O, sweet bird of youth!

—Albie Von Schaaf

The Black Fuel

Willie Nelson, “He Was a Friend of Mine.” In other hands and voices, this traditional song can become trite and cloying. Willie, as usual, cuts right to the heart of the song, a lament for a missing friend that is not pitying or whining, just respectful and rueful.

—Mike Hotter

Metroland

Definitely, definitely “Martha” by Tom Waits. Every time I hear this song I just bawl. I feel like I am 80 years old when I listen to that song, and like I lost the moment that could have changed the landscape of my life forever. The pain is so bittersweet. Reminds me of that same gut-ripping longing in the book Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

—Katie Haverly

singer/songwriter

My steely demeanor is basically rendered like animal fat in a glue plant whenever I hear “Nutty” by Thelonius Monk. It’s my dog’s theme song. That’s Otis, prancing down the street with his tail sweeping the air like the brush of Cezanne. Stealing my biscotti. Chewing my gum. Out cold on his back and snoring or curled up into a ball on cold night with his nose lodged directly in his own ass. Chasing rabbits in his half-hearted way, like he knows he’ll never catch one but what the hell? For some reason “Nutty” always reminds me that nothing lasts forever, and how devastated I’ll be when someday we’ll have to say goodbye, when that longing pair of smoky, pink-rimmed brown eyes only looks up at me in my dreams. A close second is Al Green’s “For the Good Times.” Oh, and also Black Sabbath’s “Spiral Architect.” Gets me every time.

—Bill Ketzer

Ten Year Vamp, Second Hand Smoke

Squeeze, “Can of Worms.” Glimpses into the life of a divorced mother from the vantage point of the man currently involved with her. The lyrics have a cinematic specificity that heightens their potency. The music brings an unshakable air of melancholy, with Glenn Tilbrook’s choirboy voice heightening the sense of wounded feelings that the adults want to keep from the children for as long as possible.

—David Greenberger

Metroland

Gosh, what doesn’t make me cry these days? The Fellow Travelers, “She Moved Away.” Jeb Loy Nichols’ saddest tale. Roky Erickson, “You Don’t Love Me Yet,” because it sounds like Roky’s gonna cry. Richard Buckner, “Song of 27” . . . you really need an explanation? Bruce Springsteen, “Lonesome Day”—“It’s alright/It’s alright/It’s alright/Yeah.”

—Howard Glassman

Grainbelt

Bonnie Prince Billy, “Missing One.” A humble, blindingly beautiful heart-to-heart to a loved one, recently passed. Anyone in the same boat can relate, and we’re all in the same boat.

—Mike Hotter

Metroland

Two songs are so poignant it kills me: “When You Wish Upon A Star,” and the Mister Rogers song “I Like You.” I’m sure they both dredge up bittersweet childhood memories for me. “Star” is so damn hopeful, so encouraging of twilight dreams that won’t survive the cold, hard stare of daylight, set to a melody that is nothing if not melancholy. Rogers was always pushing the feel-good rap on the kids, even before it became trendy to do so. He and John Costas brilliantly combined jazz music, positive-message lyrics and trippy puppetry to bring a safe little world to children for preschool escapism. Never mind 15 minutes of fame; songs like these two gave me 15 minutes of belief that maybe, just maybe, everything could be all right.

—MotherJudge

singer/songwriter

host of Tess’ Lark Tavern open mic

‘Where Did You Sleep Last Night” by Nirvana, and “Drunk, Tired and Busted” by Big Frank and The Bargain Bingers are great. But “In My Life” by the Beatles is on the top of my tearjerker list. The perfect song for a middle-aged rocker like myself who lost a sister, went through a divorce, is witnessing his parents age and just fighting through personal demons I never dreamt of. At the end of the song though, Lennon lends me a hand and tells me there’s always that special someone at the end of the tunnel holding a light.

—Kostas “Gus” Hais

Blackcat Elliot

Robert Wyatt “Forest.” Lety was a WWII extermination camp for Gypsies in the Czech Republic. There is no memorial for the dead at the site, which is now a pig farm. Deeply personal and universally poetic, Robert Wyatt and Alfreda Benge have created a memorial with this song. “Deep in the forest/The omens are bad/A cloud passes over the moon.”

—David Greenberger

Metroland