The seventy-fourth book: #63 Hyperion - Friedrich Holderlin

Here's another one for my theory that epistolaries are really hard to do, and terrible when not done right, combined with the general desire to show off rather than entertain or tell a story. Hyperion is a number of letters from the titular Hyperion, who is living in Greece during the late 1700s. In part he gets involved in the wars and troubles of that era, but you need to know the situation closely to be able to tell from the clues in the letters, as I barely noticed. There are love stories, but with the one sided telling, there wasn't much there that I managed to work out.

Instead, there are references to mythology and to works I don't recognise, in a flowery language that makes it hard to follow any real through line. Holderlin was a poet, and that shows in places, but it leads to a work that needs to be interpreted - and I don't think I actually got it at any point.

The one hundred sixty-fifth album: #165 Isaac Hayes - Hot Buttered Soul

Before starting the album, I had to check I'd actually copied everything for my ipod. Hot Buttered Soul only has four tracks, two of which are long (turning the 3 minute walk on by into a 12 minute song that keeps strentching and going through different versions of the rhythm, quite tightly composed but also maybe a bit too much of that thing. It's followed by Hyperbolicsyllabicsesquedalymistic, which follows this same pattern, meandering through the song and exploring a number of different angles. It feels jazz-like, but not quite as loose and with a far bigger group of musicians and instruments.

In contrast, One Woman feels the most constrained. It's still over five minutes long, but all content, and probably the best example of the core of one of Hayes' songs. It's still quite sweet and gentle and works well. It's followed by By The Time I Get To Phoenix, which kills me with the long monologue that introduces it - it then goes into the same vamping song that the other songs offer. At times it works and sounds good enough, but too often it drags it out in a way that doesn't add much and it feels like a more constrained form, as we'll get from soul at other times, will work better. At the same time, with the way it defines soul, it takes a step forward, so I guess you win some and lose some here.

The seventy-fourth comic: #3 Max und Moritz

Max und Moritz is a fairly short morality tale, showing seven pranks by the two boys played on various people in the village they live in - usually to their own benefit, in particular to fill their bellies. It's mostly done told in rhyming couplets combined with a few drawings - at most one or two per page, to enhance the story but not as a vital part of it. In that sense, it's more an illustrated children's book than a full comic, but knowing how there is a version of comics that uses these (Tom Poes comes to mind for me) it is part of the heritage. The boys get away with some pretty horrible stuff, ruining people's lives, but they get the violent comeuppance that feels like the hallmark of the time. It's not the most complicated stories, but there's some variety in the different setups and it makes for a nice diversion.

The full story is available online, if you want to read it yourself with an English translation.

The one hundred sixty-fourth album: #164 The Youngbloods - Elephant Mountain

Although this album opens with violins, setting a country vibe, by the time On Sir Francis Drake, the third track comes around, it has settled more into a jazz rhythm, nice gentle songs that sometimes have a bit of a country background but mostly fall into the easy listening category - nothing here that works you up or stresses you out, it's pretty simple and sweet, nothing complex, but it's good at doing its job.

The one hundred nineteenth TV show: #860 Sherlock

I covered this show by watching the fourth season, the one I hadn't seen yet. I think it's partially the way the stories developed. Early on, the show feels like it's adapting Sherlock Holmes stories, or at least stories based on it, and in the first two season the through storyline is fairly constrained. Then the season finale of the second season hit, with the death of Sherlock. He survives - there are more seasons after all - but it never gets resolved how he did it.

Partially, that doesn't matter - I get that it's just to heighten stakes. It feels arrogant and off-putting though. First because the show actively invites you to work it out, and not getting an answer becomes a problem. The other side is that the show doesn't shut up about it through the episode. It dangles solutions in front of you and keeps telling you off about it and it feels incredibly smug. It's frustrating and signals a change in the series where, perhaps, the character interactions matter a bit more, but it also really gets full of itself, with riddles turning into showing off how clever they are and a lot of patting Sherlock on the back. It doesn't work and feels too obnoxious to stay entertaining. I watched season 4 now, but I can't say I got much out of it, it just doesn't have enough.

The seventy-third book: #62 The Nun - Denis Diderot

I was quite worried about this one. Jacques the Fatalist was okay, but had some issues with its style that rubbed me the wrong way. At the same time, epistolaries like this book sort-of is don't appeal to me as much. The Nun pleasantly surprised me, though. While the novel isn't universally without trouble, it's quite a compelling story for the most part. Suzanne's journey, from being forced into a convent by her parents and forced to take her vows, to dealing with several different mother superiors who sometimes hate, sometimes love her, is compelling and well told. I felt for her and there's plenty of time for her own mistakes. She's active within the agency she has.

There are still a few speeches that might be slightly too long, but it works well enough and it feels like there's a shift in protagonists here that makes these novels a lot more entertaining.

The one hundred sixty-third album: #163 Fairport Convention - Unhalfbricking

The two albums of Fairport Convention - this and the upcoming Liege and Lief - are set to have advanced British folk rock and have put it on the map for most people. There's something welcome about the back to basics charm with these, using enough electric guitars to feel bulkier. Sandy Denny's vocals help a lot with that, lending it that lighter sound you get with female vocalists.

The album alternates a bit, with Cajun Woman being a straight rock song - perhaps the only one that feels purely rock, but others straying closer to pure folk, like Percy's Song, a Bob Dylan-penned song that stays close to those origins. It's well performed with some beautiful songs, but the folk isn't quite what I'm into.

The one hundred eighteenth TV show: #613 Teachers

Some shows struggle more with losing cast members than others. A show like Doctor Who thrives on it, and probably wouldn't have survived without changing cast members. Soaps wouldn't be able to keep up without it, either. Teachers, however, is not so lucky, and it's at the top of my mind as the twenty episode cut off is at the start of season 3, after some major cast changes have taken place. Andrew Lincoln and Raquel Graves leave, and while their replacements do fine, they don't do quite as well. It's not helped by some of the supporting characters not working as well when they are given bigger roles - the focus on finding other people to 'shag' and other focuses like that don't work as well when they're more of a focus.

Putting that aside, Teachers creates an odd mix of absurd humour bits, mostly in the background or in short sketches at the start of the beginning of a scene or day, and some very real topics based on the life of teachers. It probably glamourises the life a bit compared to what I've seen of real life, but it works to tell these stories of life. There are plenty of times where it gets quite affecting and real and brings some good storylines. At its best though, it does that while staying funny.

One other standout is the soundtrack - the rock songs work really well to set an atmosphere and emphasize the slight punk mood they want to create for the teachers. The only issue is that you want to go to the first two seasons, after which it gets a bit too indulgent with its own tendencies.

The four hundred and sixty-fifth song: Stayin’ Alive - The Bee Gees

Running the albums list about a decade behind the songs list leads to some pretty schizophrenic takes on some bands. I suppose Jive Talkin' was in between anyway, but Stayin' Alive is a sign of the disco the Bee Gees are known for while the album list showed us the original prog rock they were known for. It's clear to see why Stayin' Alive feels like it endured, it sounds oog, feels unique and it swings. It's one of the big songs of the big reinventions of a band in music and it keeps entertaining.

The four hundred and sixty-sixth song: Wonderous Stories - Yes

Wonderous Stories is a decent prog rock track, bells and all, with some vocals whose profoundness get lost in the mix of all the other instruments playing - creating, I suppose, an otherworldly feel, but on the whole feeling a bit much for me. It sounds like this is one of their more accessible songs, but it's one where a bit less could have meant a lot more, as I got lost in the layers on this one.

The four hundred and sixty-seventh song: Go Your Own Way - Fleetwood Mac

There is something classic about Go Your Own Way's chorus. While it feels like you could loud with it (and I am sure many karaoke performers would have done so), the restraint on it in this song feels more effective. There's a heavy drum and bass riff that keeps playing, but the lyrics stay away from the aggression of the break up lyrics, which creates the right atmosphere to keep it a bit more than that.

The four hundred and sixty-eighth song: “Heroes“ - David Bowie

Moving on to another classic song, Heroes is a song of strength and positivity instead. It's a song of conquering, moving forward and doing the right thing. It's inspiring, perhaps at times cheesy in the lyrics, but the music brings out the message that much better. Its link to the Berlin wall, when a meeting there inspired this song, grounds it in a way that brings some reality to the song. It may not always immediately change the world, but it somehow works to feel inspirational.

The four hundred and sixty-ninth song: Exodus - Bob Marley & The Wailers

While I struggle with the sound of reggae, there is also something inspiring about the way it is not afraid to involve politics and social issues in its lyrics - an approach that, at least at the time, was rare in other genres, with the obviously punk exception. Here, Exodus starts off with a fine rhythm and sounding fine, bringing across its message of political opponents of the regime being driven out. However, it soon comes down to being repetitive - well performed and tight enough, but still not enough to fill the seven and a half minutes this song brings. I would have preferred a radio edit.

The four hundred and seventieth song: River Song - Dennis Wilson

I'm still not quite sure what this song is. There are some wall of sound elements in the full sound of the track, clearly coming from a Beach Boys member, but at the same time the song rejcts that for a more natural life. It's beautiful in its adoration of nature, but also feels a bit disconnected at times, in a way I can't quite fathom. It's good, but different from where it came from.

The four hundred and seventy-first song: Whole Lotta Rosie - AC/DC

Unlike these last few songs, AC/DC has no pretensions of making music about anything deep. Whole Lotta Rosie is a hard rock song about a one night stand with Rosie, a big woman who is, to quote the book, has "the enthusiasm and endurance to do it (...) around the clock". It's not ambitious, it's a song that works in stadium, giving room for guitars and heavy drumming and drives forward. It's not sophisticated or special, but it comes in and does what it needs to do.

The four hundred and seventy-second song: Black Generation - Richard Hell & The Voidoids

Looking at punk, it feels like a lot of it was dominated by British bands. Richard Hell & The Voidoids, however, were based in New York and Blank Generation ties into the tradition. Going against the media and their peers, rather than authority, it feels like more of a commentary on how people go through their life. There's a happier beat to it even if the lyrics are more dismissive and there's something that really appeals to me in here.

The four hundred and seventy-third song: Bat Out of Hell - Meat Loaf

In the book, this is described as being not so much a heavy meatal song as it's a symphony. While built out of several parts, Bat out of Hell works as a single whole, leading from one section to another as it tells its story. It feels suitably epic and while there were rock songs before and after that do this, the way it's constructed makes it a short story told in song. Meat Loaf's I'd Do Anything For Love is similar to this (and can be referenced by this) but it all has this symphonic rock feel, fusing Meat Loaf's operatic performance with these metal songs to create something amazing and big.

The four hundred and seventy-fourth song: Lust for Life - Iggy Pop

As trite as it sounds, the titular lust for life feels like it comes through in the music. Iggy Pop's darker vocals subdues it, putting some doubt on it, but there's some sort of excitement in them. Perhaps it's the music written by David Bowie, sounding upbeat while still recognisably punk, that creates this, but there's something that riles you up and brings up this feeling. It's a classic, maybe not how you'd expect, but as a song to close out the write up of 1977, this says a lot about the year.

The seventy-first classical recording: #649 Karol Szymanowski - Myths

Myths is a set of three works, each telling a story from Greek mythology. The Fountain of Arethusa stands out most with the way the piano imitates the sound of water, including the sound of a water falling down from a spring. It's lovely and evocative and the music alone tells you the basics. Narcissus feels the most traditional, with a dreamy violin and enough buildup but nothing quite as special. The final piece, Dryads and Pan, creates its own sound though, and while the score calls for no wind instruments, the violin evokes the sound of flutes far more than I would have expected. It's tantalizing, drawn out and creates a hypnotic effect that you would associate with Pan's flutes. It's all beautiful, but the first and last pieces feel like they stand out for me with what they bring out of the instruments, in the way they evoke mood and setting of the stories these are meant to score.

The one hundred sixty-second album: #162 Chicago Transit Authority - Chicago Transit Authority

I don't think I ever really thought of jazz rock as a genre before starting this list, but it seems like we've solidly entered the time period where it has become a thing. I don't mind it too much, although Chicago Transit Authority (now known as Chicago)'s self-titled album doesn't do massive favours. As it is over an hour of music, it needs to justify itself, and it's highly variable whether it manages to do so. At its most inventive, there is a variation and sound to a song that's interesting to listen to. At its most indulgent, such as during parts of Poem 58, it's a jazz improv using rock stylingsthat doesn't go anywhere and doesn't do anything. Free Form Guitar was actually quite painful to listen to and it feels like it shouldn't have been on here in the first place - to the point where I skipped it and didn't look back.

It's a mixed bag of an album, with some good songs, a few terrible ones and beyond that mostly decent ones. The jazz rock fusion works well, but I feel like it loses me when it strays too far away from rock - the jazzier songs just don't work as well and it feels liek the band needs structure in its songs.