The one hundred and nineteenth classical recording: #570 Frederick Delius - Brigg Fair
Brigg Fair is a short piece, creating an orchestral song for a folk song. It's a nic epiece, exploring variations on the theme with some quite rousing elements, but without being familiar with the original I guess some of the impact might be lost. It's the final where it really pays off, going from gentle with some stirring segments to a large finale, not as big as you might hear in other works, but big for the gentle, I suppose country life-appropriate style of the piece. It never goes big, but it knows its setting and where to go from there.
The two hundred and eighty-seventh album: #287 Mike Oldfield - Tubular Bells
Not knowing anything about Tubular Bells going in, the opening immediately gave me goosebumps as the standard tension music used in childhood favourite TV series Bassie & Adriaan. The slow, simple build really works well to create tension. Outside of the Netherlands and Dutch-speaking parts of Belgium this was of course more known from the Exorcist, but luckily I have a more friendly association with the music.
The album has two instrumental tracks, with very few vocal performances ready - the introduction of the instruments at the finale of the first part stands out, surprising you with their presence as a choir comes in afterwards. They're quite a contrast to the demonic-sounding vocals that appear in the second part and create an aggression that's otherwise not quite as present on the album.
While there are only two tracks on here - more two halves of the same track, split because of technical constraints - the album feels like a full journey. There are no different parts to the songs, but at the same time they go on a journey with enough changes that it doesn't get boring. While these long concept tracks often don't work for me, in Tubular Bells they're tuned to perfection, immensely listenable and making for a good experience.
The one hundred and sixth comic: #328 Delirius
It's hard to focus on reading Delirius. The psychedelic visuals draw you in as you try to comprehend what's going on, switching from scene to scene, often without a clear link. The story is that of Lone Sloane, a character we'll encounter in other entries, traveling to this planet of excess, where all of man's vices seem to be celebrated. They deal with the underclass, get involved in various dealings and end up setting off a revolt that replaces some of the capitalists with communist overlords.
That didn't end up being my focus, though, and while I tried to follow the story I found it more comfortable to get wrapped up in the visuals, deal with the colours and weird sights and enjoy the disturbed but always interesting and intense art. None of it feels realistic, but the style sets such a specific atmosphere that it enhances what would otherwise be a fairly standard story.
The one hundred and sixty-sixth TV show: #196 The Water Margin
I was quite looking forward to watching The Water Margin. I had a fine experience with the book, which had its issues at the start but worked well enough. Seeing it visualized would have worked better, making for a decent drama. This failed me on several levels though.
First, we watched the dub of the show. It's the most widely available to us and while subbed shows are probably more acceptable now than they were back then, the dub has British actors using Asian accents for their portrayals, with differing amounts of subtlety, and the awkwardness of that never left me. Then there are the many characters - dubbed by only a handful of characters - that we struggled to keep separate. Some become memorable, but often it feels like we have a conversation between bureaucrats that we can't remember. Again, it doesn't help that we can't distinguish between the voices, but there's little done to help you remember then.
The translation itself doesn't help either. Apparently this was done without access to the original scripts, using only brief plot synopses. While done well enough when compared to the difficulties inherent in this, it feels like some exposition was dropped in favour of pseudo-mystic quotes. It certainly wouldn't have helped coherency.
I wonder whether a sub would have helped, but the number of characters would have stayed an issue. In the end that was not the series that was known over here, and I suspect its famous dub is part of the reason the list includes the show - it would have been an early Eastern show that would have transferred. I am more looking forward, then, to other shows like it that have a more focused story.
The two hundred and eighty-sixth album: Mott the Hoople - Mott
There's still, at times, a specific feel to British rock bands compared to American ones. Not all do it, but Mott the Hoople sounds British even as it lives in the same hard rock space that is elsewhere. We're in the run up to punk, loud and aggressive with its specific guitar beat, and it's present in a lot of the tracks on Mott. It does that job well, I enjoyed the songs, and the Ballad of Mott The Hoople manages to really follow that line between the two styles, sounding perfectly as it does so.
The one hundred and eighteenth classical recording: #414 Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky - Eugene Onegin
Looking at the story of Eugene Onegin, you get something that feels a bit more mundane than other operas. There are no kings or queens, no big events, but instead it's a love story - still from the nobility, but on more of a Pride & Prejudice scale. I'm basing this partially on what happens, as the book is on my reading list for the far future, when I get back to that (still waiting for my commute to start coming back).
What that means is less big group songs and more smaller, focused songs. It's not as epic, that's for certain, but that means we get a bit more emotion in there and some more connection with what's going on in the story. It feels rare that an opera gets this personal and emotionally connected and feels this readable even if you need translations for the lyrics. I was thoroughly charmed and I'm looking forward to more of this.
The two hundred and eighty-fifth album: #285 Herbie Hancock - Head Hunters
If you've read this blog for longer (wow...) you'll know that I am not a fan of jazz. It no longer dominates the list, but the jazz fusion that's coming in the seventies isn't doing much to win me over. In fact, the psychedelic rock oddities have moved into jazz, making Head Hunters' sound even more difficult to get into. It's an album that goes so far away from what I want to listen to that it doesn't connect, it always feels jarring to listen to, and at this point I can't say more than that there's nothing taking this jump for me.
The one hundred and fifth comic: #312 Achille Talon
While I vaguely remember reading the Dutch translation of Achille Talon when I was younger and I am certain I watched the TV show, today I read the only volume translated to English that is out there. I believe Magnesia's Treasures is quite typical of the series, a comedy -adventure where our 'hero' reaches his goal by blundering through life. I wouldn't say that it is the best at telling that stories. Aside from some dubious stereotypes, it hangs a lot on deus ex machinas and other characters being more competent while the hero mostly gets led to places by others. I don't think the jokes - relying quite a bit on wordplay - translate that well and without those hitting that well it starts to fall flat. So with a flat story and jokes that don't work, the whole book isn't as engaging as it should be. This might be better in the original, but it's not worth it for this translation.
The two hundred and eighty-fourth album: #284 Faust - Faust IV
The opening track of Faust's first album, Krautrock, is an eleven minute instrumental that makes a habit out of repeating itself. It's way too lengthy for what it brings, but as we know I have little patience for these things. The contrast is strangers as it then transitions into traditional rock songs, the electronic elements and drums overpowering the vocals, and it feels more relaxed even as the repetition sets in. The album continues like that, with long and repetitive sections suddenly interrupted by bursts of energy (I won't name tracks as there seems to be a lot of confusion about which track is which) that are a welcome distraction. it's a mixed bag, but there are times where it's good when it hits those points.
The one hundred and seventeenth classical recording: #957 Arvo Part - Fratres
Although instrumentation will affect how you would look at this piece - it is not scored for anything specific - in the version for violin and strings and percussion I heard the piece sounds somewhat melancholic throughout. Sometimes it comes from a lonely violin, but when it bursts forth in a larger setting it still has this slower sound to it, a frantic violin on top as it seems to want to break through. It's a great mood piece and its use in all sorts of productions shows how it works to set that mood and it stays effective, being only about ten minutes long.