The one hundred eleventh TV show: #494 Kommisar Rex

There are plenty of crime shows out there and while some may get by on sheer talent, you'll usually need some sort of hook to get people interested. In the case of Kommisar Rex, it's the titular Rex, a police dog who joins Vienna's homocide unit after his handler is killed in an explosion.

He gets adopted by the charismatic Moser and the two form a crime fighting team. The dog himself is the obvious star - while he may not be able to speak, he's been trained to make sure he can convey a lot of different emotions - it's a real actor and you can feel for him from the first time you see him on screen, depressed about what happened to his owner. He comes across as clever - as smart as any human - and the show is at its best when he really gets to show off.

The second star - Moser at first, although he leaves later and gets competently replaced with quite a different character - works well, as a fairly competent cop with the occasional blind spot Rex helps him solve. It stands out from the beginning how much chemistry he has with the dog. The story goes that this was a normal crime show, but Tobias Moretti showed up to his audition with a dog and that worked well enough that they decided to work it into the show. It shows in how he always interacts with Rex, even when it's not scripted - he's always encouraging him and connecting and it works really well.

Add to that how the secondary cast works well - they're competent, with the comic relief coming from their interactions with Rex. Not as an enemy (and they are shown to care a lot for each other) but by annoying each other and, in particular, a lot of theft and sharing of ham rolls. Both the dogs and the characters in the show love them, and they're often comedic beats that occasionally turn into more touching moments.

There are a lot of these episodes, and the quality ones are mostly in the early seasons, but during this the show is immensely entertaining, while not shying away from the more difficult topics - there's plenty of deaths, bomb threats and hostages to stay busy.

The sixty-eighth book: #57 The Mysteries of Udolpho - Ann Radcliffe

We've entered the era where the gothic novel is really becoming popular, and Udolpho seems to be one of the well known ones that was used in Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey, a satire of the genre. There are a lot of common parts, mysterious, (seemingly) supernatural happenings, with a dark villain and the innocent lead character who gets involved in these dealings. We had the pure protagonist before, but here she's not perfect, just standing out in this dark world where people keep secrets.

The novel flows best in the middle third, while we're in the titular Udolpho castle. The novel gets a lot of set up - in a way that pays off really nicely, but perhaps feels a bit longer than needed - and while the resolution works well and is satisfying in the last few chapters, there are some dealings surrounding Emily getting her freedom that takes a while longer.

It's mostly a compelling read, with three dimensional characters that you can change around on. While there are some big twists, they're mostly set off well and pay off, and while there's hints of supernatural involvement, for the most part we get more satisfying explanations later. It's a decent read and it feels like we're getting better versions of these narratives.

The one hundred thirty-ninth album: #139 Crosby, Stills and Nash - Crosby, Stills and Nash

There's something to be said for competent, mainstream folk rock. While Crosby, Stills & Nash (and other permutations) have their heavier, message-filled songs, something like Marrakech Express is a nice, gentle song that fits all the tropes you'd expect, while sounding good throughout. It's a delight to listen to. It describes the rest of the album as well - easy to listen to, flowing nicely, and staying away from the harder side the other parts of rock flow to. They're gentle and because of that nice enough to listen to.

The one hundred thirty-eighth album: #138 Creedence Clearwater Revival - Bayou Country

I get a bit lost in all the different rock definitions, but Creedence Clearwater Revival sets itself apart from the other rock of the era by being a bit calmer - fewer screeching guitars - but still more musically active than some folk rock. There are some country references, and Proud Mary feels like a song that leans on that feeling especially, as well as Keep On Chooglin', while Born on the Bayou (perhaps ironically) feels far more like a normal a normal rock song. It feels like it's part of a shift, exploring this sound, and it makes it sound really good already.

The sixty-sixth classical recording: #20 Claudio Monteverdi - Madrigals

One of the reasons to do these recordings chronologically is that it gives an insight into how these evolve. The content is still lost on me - although as secular songs, I assume they are more basic than what we get with other songs. Monteverdi's madrigals, at least in the version we have here, is accompanied by a lute, but is mostly given shape as a polyphonic song, two voices building together.There is something romantic about the sound, where it feels more grounded than the motets we've had before, and it feels closer to more modern songs at time - though still slower and clearly influenced by motets. They're also more affected than 'folk' music, more developed than what I'm sure they felt the commoners would sing, and the combination of that makes for something effective to listen to.

The one hundred thirty-seventh album: #137 Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band - Trout Mask Replica

I was worried about this album. I've heard bits and both its sound and the way it was created feel off putting. It doesn't sound sane, and while there can be virtue in that, I'm not sure how that would pay off.

At times it feels unpolished or unfinished - someone singing into a microphone, messing up, but not creating something that feels right to put out. At its best, this feels like passable rock - nothing that excites me, to be quite honest - at the worst an unpolished mess.

The four hundred and twenty-fifth song: (Don’t Fear) The Reaper - Blue Oyster Cult

Starting with a famous riff, the psychedelic roots of Blue Oyster Cult come through in this haunting song, relentlessly moving on while there's a haunting sound to this song as well - ready for death rather than fearing it. It's frightening on some levle, the impact of the emotions making themselves known throughout.

The four hundred and twenty-sixth song: More Than a Feeling - Boston

Some songs really get disadvantaged by their placement on the list and More Than a Feeling pales next to The Reaper. It's a lighter piece of classic rock, a rock ballad that does well in expressing a sentiment but through overexposure feels a bit emptier as well - and with a bridge that doesn't seem quite as needed. It's a nice and sweet song.

The four hundred and twenty-seventh song: Sir Duke - Stevie Wonder

My connection to this song is a bit different from others, as I've studied performing it a capella when I actually got some singing lessons. There's something varied in the different funk parts it drifts through, with what feels like more shifts than normal, constantly moving between swing and funk. At the same time, I didn't quite appreciate the lyrics at the time, paying tribute to many different deceased musicians, and how it covers their music is probably more impressive and important.

The four hundred and twenty-eighth song: The Killing of Georgie (Parts 1 & 2) - Rod Stewart

While still a rock song, this soft rock number describes the life of Georgie, a gay man in a time where that was far more of a problem. While his death, mentioend in the song, doesn't come from his sexuality, his abandonment and the way he moves through life does and that is what really has the impact here. The second part is more longing and angry, having a more emotional impact, but it wouldn't work without the more upbeat, narrative first half to contrast against.

The four hundred and twenty-ninth song: Dancing Queen - Abba

After four quite emotional numbers, Dancing Queen makes for a real palate cleanser - no complicated emotions or lyrics, just admiration of these seventeen year olds enjoying going out and dancing. Musically it's more complex, making for a good song to dance to, and that's where its real strengths come in, reinforcing its lyrics and building on them while maintaining its joy - in a way the perfect pop song.

The four hundred and thirtieth song: Blitzkrieg Bop - The Ramones

This is where you're almost hoping punk to end up, and where more bands took from - not just the dark political stuff, but joy in there as well - joy with a dark undertone, but there's some enthusiasm in here as well. Apparently, bubblegum music was their inspiration, and this bubblegum punk means it's not taken too seriously - it creates a fun song, for the most part, with the title and some references showing it's not all that.

The four hundred and thirty-first song: Love Hangover - Diana Ross

This song starts off slow, an R&B song that's well performed but not that special. When the disco break starts, everything loosens up a bit and the atmosphere changes. The structure of the lyrics is lost and you get a nice tune with some improvisation on top, but at that point it seems too far gone to recover any momentum.

The four hundred and thirty-second song: Cokane in My Brain - Dillinger

I still don't know what's going on with this song. I think this is Dillinger talking to himself, while he's not very responsive. He also keeps not realizing how not to spell New York, apparently, and there are a lot of other weird references, but mostly it feels nonsensical, weird lyrics over a repetitive riff, and whatever side it's on, it's clear he was on drugs when this was written.

The four hundred and thirty-third song: Police and Thieves - Junior Murvin

In response, we get some more conventional reggae, a song sung in falsetto that has a similar repetitive melody and tries to make a political point but doesn't seem to quite pull off what it's trying to do and say. I'm still not quite sure what point it's trying to make here, although that depends on me knowing Jamaican history anyway.

The four hundred and thirty-fourth song: (I’m) Stranded - The Saints

While we've talked about punk songs before, in this batch of ten this feels like the real punk song - hard driving guitars, an angry message and while there's an attempt at a catchy chorus it's just not that type of song or band. Compared to the previous song, there's a similar dislike and distrust of the government, but it manages to articulate it better and puts in a feeling of personal loneliness

The sixty-fifth classical recording: #537 Hubert Parry - I Was Glad

Quite a short piece, with a history that shows as much, this is a choral arrangement that feels like a psalm, not too complex but quite pleasing. It's a nice piece, well put together, and while I could see it outstaying its welcome if it was longer, this feels like a solid six minutes.

The sixty-seventh book: #56 The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano - Olaudah Equiano

Some books make for a more impressive read than others. After I've complained about flowery language from previous English books, Equiano's autobiography is simple and readable, maybe a bit too peppered with bible verses, but ultimately writing an interesting story that has a point, that moves and angers you and keeps you along for the entire ride.

Being a driving force for the abolition of slavery in the UK, this work tells the story of a former slave, how he lived before he was captured, how his life progressed as a slave and how he eventually won his freedom. It also goes into the hardships of his life after that, with several threats of becoming a slave again, and losing plenty of money as his word still counted as less than a white man. There's a lot of bias that, maybe, we still see, but that was especially pronounced in this era. It shows how dire the circumstances were, but also puts a very human face on a slave, something a lot of people of the time might not have seen.

It made me think. It made me glad that we've moved on from here, and it really gave a good impression of how bad things were, even when some people tried.

The sixty-fourth classical recording: #648 Richard Strauss - Eine Alpensinfonie

Sometimes, a choice of instrument really can invoke a setting, and the bells that come into the symphony, clattering seemingly randomly, seem the best way to give the impression you're in an alpine field . Nature is present and big, it's not a quiet walk in nature but gives the impression of grander sights. There's something epic about the music, sweeping, a grandeur that works to describe the mountain range.

The settings the piece move through are quite evocative - not always quite enough to identify the piece, but close enough that you can get some idea of the feeling of it - things like a thunderstorm are still quite obvious. It's an imporessive piece and one that I wish I could have some visuals for - the landscapes that inspired it felt like they must have been breathtaking.