The two hundred and fifty-fifth album: #255 Nitty Gritty Dirt Band - Will The Circle Be Unbroken
It's a bit of a change to hear a bluegrass album, the bluesy country feeling at odds with the rock experiments we've been hearing and the country rock the genre seemed to be gravitating towards. That is, according to the documentary I only heard about, the reason behind the album - the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band got artists from the past from the genre to record with them so the original sounds could be preserved.
It's not my sound and while I enjoyed the songs while doing something else, I wouldn't have sought them out. These are standard country songs performed incredibly well by the big people in the genre and they work, but I think only a few really gave me that connection. Well performed, capable, and the behind the scenes notes work, but it isn't quite my thing.
The one hundred and fifty-fourth TV show: #903 Marchlands
Thanks to some last minute changes in Christmas plans, we ended up watching a modern ghost story for Christmas. Marchlands in the story of three families living in a house called Marchlands, each twenty years apart, and the story of a ghost that connects them. The story slowly builds as we find out what happens and more characters gain prominence,
Setting the story in the same location helps a lot with that, as you keep going back to the same places, but always looking different - from a dark 60s house to the pastels from 1987 and the brighter, cleaner 2010 version. It adds to the continuity of events that draws the three families together even as the parallels between them shrink. One of the three eras doesn't even get too involved in the resolution of the story, instead providing the context for its hauntings and scares. It's more about how the death of a girl can linger on a house while giving it a more supernatural view of it.
It almost doesn't need to be said, but the performances are the best, as you can expect from British prestige drama. Jodie Whitaker as the bereft mother puts in a wonderfully layered performance in both her initial sadness and coping with it afterwards, and Anne Reid's follow up performance manages to carry that through perfectly. The other parents that are most involved - Dean Andrews in the 1980s and Shelley Conn as the new mother in the 2010s do a lot of this as well, trying to understand and be in tune with what is going on around them. A lot of them never interact, but here it means they get to shine on their own.
In the end, there are no big mysteries or conspiracies here and the story stays a lot more personal, just with a supernatural element that pushes things forward. It makes for a better show, in tune with one where the spirit is trying to help and warn rather than to scare, and all in all it's about that sadness, rather than any sort of horror angle.
The ninety-second comic: #640 Hellboy
As I suspect many have done, I've seen the Hellboy movie before reading this series. It's not a bad idea, it sets up the premise quite nicely and while I don't quite remember whether the plots match, it's close enough to the same universe that it works anyway. But while there is a bigger plot, Hellboy reads more as a number of cases that touch the supernatural, often with the nazi enemies that come in the backstory (something that's becoming disturbingly common in American superhero or supernatural stories). In that sense, it feels like it follows Mushi-shi - we go to a place, fix the problems, and move to the next. Here Hellboy and his companions are sent by a bureau instead.
The gritty art style fits with the violence that runs through, but as with something like Sandman, it's the world the comic creates that matters, as well as the weird creatures and situations that we find - especially when we get to deal with underwater monsters or various witches. It's those supernatural creatures and events that I enjoy the most, and luckily it feels like that's what the series embraces more as time goes on.
The two hundred and fifty-fourth album: #254 Todd Rundgren - Something/Anything
As I said, we're in the age of the double albums, but I don't think I've heard anyone embrace the advantages of having four sides to work with this much. Each of them has a distinct identity and if you start with the first you'd be deceived into thinking it's just pop, a polished sound that draws from both rock and r&b traditions to create a set of easy to listen to songs. The introduction to the second side - slightly tongue in cheek describing studio recording sounds - becomes more avant garde, with some more intellectual songs and different takes on the music. It's quite a twist and it primes you for these changes moving from a Phil Spector sound to something that would fit with Paul Simon or Bob Dylan's work with a hint of psychedelia.
The third side then takes it into a harder rock with heavier lyrics, something not best suited to Todd Rundgren's voice but sounded quite distinct on its own. It's the fourth that's the odd standout, a pop operetta that's the only side with tracks not written by Rundgren and with performances from other musicians. It starts off with a loose overture that leads into a tighter performance of Dust in the Wind. On the whole, though, this shared performance feels looser, with some of the live performance left in. It's a nice set of songs, not as clearly connected but creating a nice love story through line. It's probably the closest to a set of r&b and pop tracks on the album, which works well enough here, while giving the feeling that recording sessions were a lot of fun as well.
In the end, there are four sides to this album, and I feel they all work for different reasons. The second side probably connected best with me, but it's worth going on the full adventure.
The one hundredth classical performance: #738 Constant Lambert - The Rio Grande
There is, of course, not a clear delineation between classical and 'modern' music and even where there is some distinction, the two influence each other. While it has a full orchestra and chorus, this sounds and feels distinctly different from the other pieces. It's more like a movie soundtrack in its energy and it has a big jazz influence in its sound and how it plays. To be fair, that's probably just as much part of the way we randomly jump around the list. Seeing how this feels this could also be a backing soundtrack for Merry Melodies or another cartoon series, the amount of energy it has is amazing while it feels it takes you through a story at the same time.
The two hundred and fifty-third album: #253 Milton Nascimento & Lo Borges - Clube da Esquina
As I've seen before on this list, the Brazilian music scene has a tendency to take the prevalent music of the day and make it their own, mixing elements in a way that doesn't always get done in other countries. For Clube da Esquina, that's a case of taking their existing jazz and bossa nova route and mixing in contemporary rock, mixing in some rock ballads and psychedelic rock and bringing that experimentation into their own context.
What you get is a fusion of styles that's hard to place in what we know, but gives a nice, relaxed vibe that's pleasant to listen to. In the era of double albums an hour-long album is already feeling less excessive, but regardless of that it doesn't drag as other albums of this length tend to, offering a nice variety even as it's an album that works as well in the background as something to listen to while working.
The two hundred and fifty-second album: #252 Hugh Masekela - Home Is Where The Music Is
Here we go again. I've talked about disliking jazz albums before - they really don't work for me as these lengthy pieces that you're listening to more or less on your own with an album like this and the rise of rock seemed to have put a stop to them. The afrobeat inspiration doesn't really come through in the album either, or if it does it doesn't give it enough of a kick to stand out in my mind - only one track really feels like it, and it feels like a looser improvised section at the end rather than a part of the same album. Some bits are quite well performed, but the jazz sound never fills me with that good a feeling, especially with its 76 minute runtime.
The ninety-ninth classical recording: #305 Robert Schumann - Piano Quintet
It sounds like this work got popular after it was composed as a known and loved piece of chamber music. Although I can't entirely judge this, I can see why it could be under these circumstances. While it goes through different emotions - the second movement is the most dour, based on a funeral march - there is quite an upbeat feel to most of it, an energy and excitement that lifts your spirits. The ascending and descending scales of the third movement grab your attention with the intensity of the piece really coming through.
The two hundred and fifty-first album: #251 Lou Reed - Transformer
I don't think I really knew how David Bowie's influence towered over music in the early seventies. This album is clearly Lou Reed's, a follow up to his work with Velvet Underground, but it also feels aggressively glam in places with tracks where the pop genre is really coming through. Perfect Day features as the third track and it's such a good pop song that it continues to stand well here. Following up with the very rocky Hangin' Round, almost a throwback, shows the range this album is aiming for.
The tracks still focus on the lyrics, which feel just as strong - Perfect Day and Walk on the Wild Side both show this as there is a lot of meaning in them, and throughout the album addresses issues that were controversial at the time. Following Candy on an earlier Velvet Underground album, there are several tracks that address LGBT icons, with the ones that (at least for the time) positively focus on trans characters. I can't say whether they still work in the current context, but it feels like it speaks of it quite tenderly. David Bowie's image, at least at the time, feels like it influences this part too - perhaps not through the lyrics, but by encouraging its content. However it worked later, this album on its own works like a lovely piece of music.
The ninety-first comic: #431 Life In Hell
Life In Hell is Matt Groening's comic, started over a decade before he created the Simpsons. Other than showing a few character designs that (vaguely) match the design of those characters, there isn't really much of an overlap there, with Life In Hell aiming for a less family friendly vibe even if it stays within newspaper boundaries. Rather, it is a collection of conversations or shorter stories between some set characters, or one panel gags that comment on a situation. I believe it's also one of the first to feature a gay couple without that ever being remarked on (they might be brothers, but there's clearly a relationship here). The reason was so Matt Groening couldn't be accused of bias or taking sides, but it does feel like a small step.
The comics are fun, at times dated as it reports on current events, and often enough a bit bizarre. Not something I'd chase down further, but as they a number of them currently online at http://lifeinhellarchives.tumblr.com/ it's easy enough to check out.
The ninetieth comic: #786 Berlin: City of Stones
Berlin: City of Stones, and its follow up works (which I've read part of as well) is mostly set in 1929, around the time of the great recession and the events leading up to the nazis taking control of Germany. Through it, we read the story of several people as they live their lives in Berlin through these events. The main thread is the love story of Kurt, a disaffected journalist, and Marthe, an art student. They live their life while trying to stay unaffected directly - with enough resources to not have to worry too much about what's going on.
We meet a lot of different groups that are more so. One family split by the ideological differences, which leads to the mother being killed in the Blutmai massacre and the girl living on the streets. A later work introduces several black jazz musicians who have to live in this racist environment while having more privileges thanks to their work in a somewhat more known night club.
It's a dark and daunting view of a world that makes you reflect more than anything on how to survive in a world where all this is going on, how you'd ignore or deal with certain things while trying to get through it. There's occasional decadence that seems unjustified, violence that would have happened but pushed away and other challenges. The simple style (skin colour is implied more than shown) adds to the bleak feel of the world and the really sets the tone for a look at a world that seemed far less alien than I thought.