The three hundred and seventy-seventh album: #377 The Clash - The Clash
I put this album on and before I knew it I was four tracks in without noticing the difference. They're short punk songs, the guitar riffs sounding similar and everything going in hard. It's not that the sentiment is bad or there aren't nice touches in here, but it feels like it all gets overpowered by the wall of noise, which means you're basically holding out for the intros where the album sounds good. Beyond that, with the exception of the odd track where they try differently (standing out just for being different), for me it's an album that I'd put on to get some emotions out, but not for any nuance in my experience.
The one hundred and thirty-third classical recording: #90 Johann Sebastian Bach - Keyboard Partitas
There is a certain joy to the sound of the harpsichord and they seem to fit these partitas especially well. There's a lightness to the faster movements, where it feels like play, while still getting across some more sombre moments. There's a lot of pleasant music that's good to just enjoy and I'd happily have these on in the background again - they're just great to reset your mood.
The three hundred and seventy-sixth album: #376 The Stranglers - Rattus Norvegicus
Rattus Norvegicus is one of the biggest punk albums from its era and I feel I can see why. There's the anger and frustration in the lyrics that comes in with the work, the vulgarity that appeals on a base level, but it also stays accessible, a lot of it being the daily life 'concerns' - including partying, sex and arguments with (girl)friends - that would get people interested, but also with an observational style that now seems to comment on that lifestyle a bit - the fact that there's a track about Nostradamus' predictions for Toulouse indicates that depth and whether it's the accent or the music, the sarcasm seems heavy in places. Whether my reading is intentional or not, that reading combined with the deeper concepts that some tracks explore make the album worth a listen.
The ninety-sixth book: #76 Melmoth the Wanderer - Charles Maturin
I felt repeatedly a step behind the novel when reading Melmoth the Wanderer. It delights in its stories within stories, interrupting them Arabian Nights style to diverge, but using a cast of characters that I had difficulty keeping track of. Perhaps it's because the core conceit that I thought we got first - an immortal figure wandering the earth - barely comes up, and instead there's a long diversion about monastery life that I mentally checked out off... but then finding out it felt like part of a longer story that I then got lost in when it started mixing in even more stories. With every story initially being a clean slate, with its own set of characters, and in this case a detailed world that I'm not familiar enough with to just get, it got disorienting, and I'll admit I'd lost interest soon enough hoping we'd get some bits that connected back to the original concept. When it happened, though, it never grabbed me and I found myself unwilling to invest the time needed to get to know the story better. It's too far removed from what's interesting to me that it just came down to whether the start of each story grabbed me.
The three hundred and seventy-fifth album: #375 Muddy Waters - Hard Again
Before starting this album, I was a bit worried about the effect a blues album would have and what I'd find with it. This album delivered more than I expected though, a decade or two of rock music infusing the blues to weirdly have a more upbeat feel - the message might still be there as well, but it builds on a more powerful and active tone that makes it a joy to listen to.
The one hundred and thirty-second classical recording: #455 Nicolai Rimsky-Korsakov - Capriccio Espagnol
Still feeling rusty on my classical knowledge, I'm going to be brief and probably even less coherent than normal. Not entirely off the mark for a 16 minute piece, I suspect, that crams a lot in its fairly short duration. As an exploration of Spanish folk music, it goes through a lot of elements. There's not much recognition in it for me, but I love how it adapts some of the elements, with the castanets imitated by the percussion section being one stand out in a manic fifth and final movement. It doesn't leave you with a lot of room to breathe, the variations in the second movement feeling the most sedate, but the bursts of energy work to build these together.
The three hundred and seventy-fourth album: #374 Weather Report - Heavy Weather
I've been on and off jazz throughout the blog, with more recent fusion tracks appealing to me a lot more than the original albums. That seems like it ended with Heavy Weather. While far from unlistenable, the build up didn't work for me, the effects that were introduced unnecessary and while there was a theme running throughout, I also didn't feel much cohesion for my brain to grab on to. The basic jazz sound here doesn't work for me, and the diversions and experiments don't do much to change that for me with this album.
The three hundred and seventy-third album: #373 Electric Light Orchestra - Out of the Blue
Rather than being able to find a standout track in Out of the Blue, I find Electric Light Orchestra's sound more interesting. At first listen, it's a pop rock album. Digging deeper, there are a number of interesting effects that add to that, but never enough to feel massively different. The presence of a violin as part of the core sound is good, but doesn't feel like it always meaningfully change the songs. It's there, but it feels like it never gets the emphasis that you want.
Instead, we get some fun poppy songs with heavy vocorder use and quite different times - a fire extinguisher on Mr Blue Sky, the most recognisable track to be, as well as other surprising sounds. It works fine as a nice pop album, but I also don't feel like there's nothing I'm really going to remember about this album.
The three hundred and seventy-second album: #372 Bob Marley & The Wailers - Exodus
With some classic Bob Marley tracks appearing on this album, it presents the poppier version of reggae that we've heard before, possibly with more conventional production styles coming in. While on a theoretical level I could see how that would be considered a shame or betrayal, it makes it easier to listen to this album. The pop songs are nice if a bit simple, but even the ones that feel more like pure reggae are quite nice. Lyrically, at the same time, there's little to connect to - on a political level, the struggles it addresses are far enough removed, while the religious focus doesn't give me much. Marley's music is quite explicitly about this, especially when written, but it's not something appealing to me much further.
The three hundred and seventy-first album: #371 Billy Joel - The Stranger
Billy Joel here has a good pop rock album - some good, powerful songs, with some really good lyrics to listen to. It's simple, but in most places works so well, with just the right amount of production without overwhelming it, almost a folk album in its focus while having that pop rock sound to it.
The one hundred and thirty-first classical recording: #107 Johann Sebastian Bach - The Well-Tempered Clavier
This covers book one, for anyone still following along, based on the given recording and general naming mentioned in the book.
One of the biggest obstacles to overcome sometimes is the unfamiliarity with an instrument or sound. In contemporary music, electric guitars had that effect back in the day, auto tune sounds off to me sometimes and I certainly struggle a bit with more modern music these days even if it grows on me. That same effect goes the other way as well and the sound of a harpsichord is not one that I'm used to. It's a sound that I think I've mostly heard in a larger group, where it mixes in with other instruments, but on its own it has a metal sound that doesn't sit well with a modern ear that's used to a richer sound from modern pianos and such.
Once past that, you get a musically inventive set of works, each a prelude and fugue. While perhaps not always as overly complex as later composers, there's enough layered in each that it shows the skill involved in them. They're abstract enough that they won't hit any direct emotions or tell you their stories, but they manage to get you in their mindset all the same - often a bit sombre, a bit dark, with some making good use of their minor keys.
The biggest downside of listening to the work like this is probably that it's not made to be consumed like one long work. Two hours is a long time and while the variety is there, it's not enough to sustain an active listening experience.