The three hundred and sixty-fourth song: Most People I Know… - Billy Thorpe & The Aztecs
I'm not sure to what extent this song is Australian rock or just its own variant on rock, but there's something especially melodic song to this, bringing back the stronger vocal performances from earlier rock that's gotten lost, with some of the tricks of modern rock but none of the at times over the top psychedelia. It's seventies, yet harkens back to a time when rock wasn't about volume or being out there. Instead it's smaller and more natural, more personal than rock songs sometimes feel. If David Bowie is one side of the reinvention of rock, this is trying to modernize its roots.
The three hundred and sixty-fifth song: Taj Mahal - Jorge Ben
Although Wikipedia describes this as samba rock, it feels like you could take that a step further. The 'black' influences merges in a bit of soul at the start and pushes it towards disco. It's something that doesn't quite hold up - and the heavy guitar riff may dominate a bit much for it, but it's party music, something to dance to, but not quite as much of an outburst as samba normally is.
The three hundred and sixty-sixth song: Walk on the Wild Side - Lou Reed
One way in which you can tell the mood of the time was changing is what's considered acceptable on the radio. While the happy chorus makes this sound like a happy song, the song describes a transgender prostitute performing oral sex and such. It's all quite subdued when these lyrics are sung, at a volume just low enough that you have to listen closely. The walk on the wild side really is described well and the juxtaposition is especially interesting to listen to with the meaning it gives - these dark things on the other side of normal society.
The three hundred and sixty-seventh song: Virginia Plain - Roxy Music
With glam rock coming in, here we get a British band that leans into that, with an odd vocal style that feels it stand out. And while it's a good glam rock song, I also feel it doesn't draw anything distinct. It's partially setup for what I understand is a good second album, but there wasn't quite enough of a hook in it that made it stand out.
The three hundred and sixty-eighth song: You’re So Vain - Carly Simon
While I'm sure part of the reason this song is known is because of the question who is actually so vain, but it's also a good composition with a great chorus and some nice understated anger (or annoyance) in the verses. There's enough rock to give it anger, enough pop to keep it easy to listen to, and just enough Mick Jagger to support the strong, full vocals of Carly Simon. It's a beautiful feat, and I think keeping the mystery open just adds to it as a statement, in part because it can apply to everyone.
The three hundred and sixty-ninth song: Today I Started Loving You Again - Bettye Swann
Some songs on this list feel like they shouldn't quite be here - they're fine, good in their genre, but don't stand out. Here, I guess this is representative of R&B of the day, a soul version of a country standard that sounds good, but mostly does what it comes to do and little more that feels as notable.
The three hundred and seventieth song: Il mio canto libero - Lucio Battisti
With the exception of Brazil, few foreign acts made it on the list at this point and it feels like those that did were dominated by French chansons and other oddities that don't quite fit. Il Mio Canto Libero, though, approaches folk rock, starting with a guitar and building up the instruments until it's louder than those, but it retains that intimate feeling for the most part, a man singing a love song. It builds its complexity as the song continues and through that creates something more impressive, even if I feel the emotion gets lost a bit partway through with the gimmick losing the core of the song.
The three hundred and seventy-first song: Superfly - Curtis Mayfield
Having just try to watch Shaft, the movie that really didn't live up to its theme, Superfly doesn't feel quite as in-your-face about the main character. It's still descriptive, but the funky soundtrack gives it a lot more character. There's a good bass line in here, the brass works well, and the lyrics relevant enough, but (probably a good thing for the film) don't dominate as much. It's a good, funky song that feels like it's doing something more with it.
The three hundred and seventy-second song: Crazy Horse - The Osmonds
It's weird. The Osmonds seem, when you read their Wikipedia page, seem like a wholesome group, but they moved into hard rock and wrote a song about environmentalism that sounds like it's about drugs. It's wholesome hard rock, something made because they could, but it sounds right, it's a good rocker, and the juxtaposition is amazing, showing the variety that's possible.
The three hundred and seventy-third song: All the Young Dudes - Mott the Hoople
Bowie really starts to permeate music at this point, here with another song written by him to address everyone. Though sounding like an anthem (like glam rock really can do, with its harmonies, large sounds and so on), it's a warning to come out and make yourself visible. It's perhaps not as grand, but it speaks to you and feels so specific. It's a warning, but one that feels outspoke in its message to come out and address things.