The fourty-second classical recording: #16 Giovanni Pierluigi de Palestrina - Missa Papae Marcelli

Masses haven't always gone over well listening to it, but here I feel they work out better than previous ones. As polyphony is explored further, we're getting more interesting mixes with more actual "instruments" in them. Here they work nicely together, flowing and creating something calming that we don't always get. There's more variation than in other masses and the work takes on its own identity more than we get in others.

The eighty-eighth TV show: #727 Infinite Challenge

When we were watching some bits of this show as a preview, when we were trying to set up some of the shows to make sure they worked, this seemed like quite an odd thing - different enough that it'd be interesting, but would it really keep us engaged? Starting at a different point though, in an extreme jobs special, we saw the group of the time both do jobs that were wearing them out, but also staying entertaining through it. Jumping through a lot of different types of episodes (and there is a large variety), the chemistry between the hosts stands out. There's a lot of banter, digs at each other, and some of the best moments are when they're competing with each other trying to get one over each other. They're good performers who do their best to work in any situation, but also dorky enough to have great reactions.

It just cheers us up, watching it and seeing them going big and at times silly. It's good fun, with characters you quickly learn to recognise, but that you get to see outside of them entertaining as well, and it makes for a really good show.

The fifty-seventh book: #47 Reveries of the Solitary Walker - jean-Jacques Rousseau

So after a long story of family life, my next book is a shorter, unfinished work of Jean-Jacques Rousseau's musings while he was walking around Paris. These are mostly philosophical musings about life and society, I can't really find much interest in such high ideas and my attention drifts quite quickly when it keeps going, so this didn't feel worth it - there wasn't enough substance to it and I would rather have heard more of the actual work, observing and commenting on the world around him rather than theorizing. For those interested, I'm sure this would work better, but not for me as a casual reader.

The one hundred fourth album: #104 The Velvet Underground - White Light/White Heat

While we've previously listened to the Velvet Underground when paired with Nico, this album is them on their own, taking their own direction. The absence of Nico creates a rougher sound, and the longer songs have a looser feel to them. The second song already takes an unexpected turn - an eight minute long short story read out over a rock track. It's an interesting idea, certainly fitting with the art scene they were in, but it starts to drag halfway through, not giving anything extra. After that, the album falls into a more predictable rhythm, a wall of rock music with the same raw vocals and distortion that comes out stronger in the 17 minute long Sister Ray, a part improvised single take piece of music that drones on in a constant and consistent tone. It's noise, but in a way that sounds good, at least for the genre this is in.

The fifty-sixth book: #1011 Amelia - Henry Fielding

Have I ever mentioned how tired I'm getting of the "perfect woman" narrative? The recent picaresque novels strayed away from it a bit, but Henry Fielding goes back into it. The titular Amelia resists all temptations and bears her bad fortunes gracefully, while her husband (from a marriage against her mother's wishes) joins the army, gets arrested, loses their money through gambling and cheats on her. Yeah, it's a bad life, but she weathers it, gets a big inheritance and they retire together.

It's written in the overblown style that I disliked before, it's not quite readable. It's literature... but perhaps I wish I could get an edit that works a bit better for me.

The fourty-first classical recording: #474 Ernest Chausson - Poeme de l'amour et de la mer

So far, most of our vocal performances have been either operas, with a specific setting, or choral performances that have started to feel repetitive. Getting a poem set to music makes for a gentler performance. There's something calming in the performance, a restrained orchestra set to make vocals shine as it takes you away. It's obviously affected by the mood I'm in, but the music is just right when you need some relaxation after a busy day and taking you to the waterfront or leave you dreaming of love.

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.

The eighty-seventh TV show: #139 Whistle and I'll Come for You

Regardless of the reasons, it's fair to say that our sense of pacing for TV has changed over time. While this is often seen as something that is seen in the length of shots, it's also a structural thing. In a horror story like this, we want to get to the mystery sooner - not fully, but with some hints and pointers. Alternatively, having some smaller thing go on at the side helps. The Tractate Middoth showed how things go if that doesn't work - a story that feels like it cuts off after the second act. Here, the first act establishing. normality drags a bit and, for all that has it happen naturally, leaves it a bit too long to establish something is going on. It takes off once the whistle is found, but doesn't feel like it builds up any tension to get there.

Once you realise that something is going on, it does start to increase it, while still keeping the whole thing small. There's something weird going on, but the show never really focuses on it until the end, letting dreams and short odd appearances do the work. It's more effective, but never really reaches beyond sheets dangling in the air, and it feels like it could have done it better.

The one hundred third album: #103 Shivkumar Sharma - Call of the Valley

Following on with weirder genres, this feels like one of the more unexpected entries on the list. We have, of course, covered a lot of classical music for the other list, and I believe this one generally avoids it. Call of the Valley, however, is a light classical album of Indian music, likely to have inspired many western artists.And it's different from both categories, taking what seems like a more minimalist approach. You get simpler music in other places too, but here it's especially sparse, in a way that made me appreciate each individual instrument more. The album is relaxing and enchanting in a way that stands out in this era and makes me want to investigate the genre a bit more, to at least get a few more samples of it.

The eighty-sixth TV show: #420 Dekalog

For this entry, we watched a ten part series set in a tower block in Warsow, focused on the ten commandments. It's an anthology with some overlapping characters, but independent stories. It means the stories differe a lot in where they go and what happens, but there's this vague link in themes. The stories are usually quite small and human. Some about an affair that barely gets resolved, or searching for a missing lover. Others take it a bit larger, dealing with death and depression, but it always stay local, with a few characters involved, in situations that could - and probably are - real life. It makes them that much more relatable and through that more effective.

This is helped by the cinematography. While the writer and director is the same for all of them, this probably being one of his big works, the cinematographer changes for nearly each episode (there are nine, one of them handled two episodes). It shows in how different the episodes feel and how experimental some can get. It creates enough of a distinction between them to make them mini movies - which I suppose is what they really are.

It's a wonderful series that you can't imagine being made under some specific circumstances, but it's a worthwhile watch to gets you from time to time and manages to make you think as well. It's a masterpiece of its own.