The one hundred seventy-third album: #173 Alexander Spence - Oar
Oar is a folk rock album mostly written in a mental hospital. There are elements of country in here, but on the whole the album features a bunch of songs with, at times, odd lyrics, not always sung clearly enough to make out in the first place. As the album progresses, it introduces more psychedelic elements, all in all creating a journey into the mind of a man who was clearly struggling and making sense of the world.
As much as I can't quite make sense of all parts of the album, the result drifts from mellow and relaxing to unsettling.When it's country or folk rock, the songs are fine, competent but not amazing. When it shifts from there, though, there's something special about the album, all put together by one man and creating an odd experience that I haven't seen replicated quite like this - psychedelic, but without needing drugs, using this man's troubles instead.
The seventy-ninth book: #68 Michael Kohlhaas - Heinrich von Kleist
Today's book made for a nice change of pace. A fictionalized account of a possible real story, it tells the tale of Michael Kohlhaas (originally Hans Kohlhase), who starts a rebellion against the German nobility at the time in response to injustices that led to the horses he was trading being stolen from him. There's a feeling of indignation throughout, where he was clearly wronged and is taking revenge - excessive revenge, but one with popular support by commoner while the nobility gets scared. It's well written and engaging, with less interpersonal drama, but also a throughline that was easier to follow. It's a nice break from the romance drama I had and that I know I'll get more of. Instead, the wheeling and dealing, and broadly drawn, but realistic characters keep this engaging as a character study and action story.
The seventy-eighth book: #67 Elective Affinities - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Known for his drama, I wasn't expecting Elective Affinities to be what Goethe wrote. The thesis, about how chemical elements have preferences in what they combine with, extends to a love sotry where a husband and wife have two friends live with them for a while, and how it changes the relationships and how they interact. The couple end up splitting up and get involved with their friends, as they turn out to be their better partners.
This is foreshadowed early in the book, as part of a scientific discussion, but comes back as the plot of the novel - something that makes there be a point to the story, and an exploration of the concept. It does create a 19th century romance novel after that, that doesn't necessarily always kept my interest (with a translation that didn't feel the most engaging), but works well to get to the point - it's a good novel, but I felt a bit out of touch with its setting.
The seventy-seventh book: #66 Rameau's Nephew - Denis Diderot
Like the book itself, I feel this post can be short. Rather than a novel with a story, this is a philosophical dialogue between, supposedly, the writer and the (I assume) fictional nephew of composer Rameau. It talks about life and art and the philosophy surrounding it and it's all, to be honest, somewhat boring. It doesn't really register and while I pick up on some points, for the most part there's not enough of a line through that works to explain it. Luckily there aren't too many of these for a while, but yeah, this isn't worth noting.
The one hundred seventy-second album: #172 The Stooges - The Stooges
We're seeing punk approach as one of the genres that follows 60s rock. The Stooges live in this era, taking off the route the Stones took, mixing in garage rock and generally have a raw, dirty sound. Iggy Pop's clear vocals sit on top of it, creating a contrast that works especially well in We Will Fall, a darker number that has dark vocals and very constrained guitars playing as Iggy Pop performs over it. It's all a lot more focused and prepared than the looser style from punk and garage rock and it creates something with more of a vision through that. It may sound wrong to some, but this level of polish is the way I prefer my (proto) punk to sound.
The seventy-sixth book: #65 Henry Von Ofterdingen - Novalis
Every once in a while, I wonder whether the different translations I get for these are really the best - often the Gutenberg edition comes along as the most accessible, but then there are others that aren't on there and have a different source. Novalis' Henry Von Ofterdingen seems to be marred by this, with a story I didn't really track much of and an explosion of words that didn't lead anywhere for me. It seemed like I wasn't the only person to struggle with following this and I think it's probably good this just flew me by.
The one hundred seventy-first album: #171 Scott Walker - Scott 4
While, at mentioned when I discussed Scott 2, he previously covered the likes of Jacques Brel songs as well as his own songs, on his fifth solo album he recorded only songs he wrote himself. They're the same type of chansons (or related), with the baroque production of the previous album applying here. However, as the songs were written for it, they blend even better - big sounds that support the erudite vocals, with Scott Walker's deep voice forming a base line for the track.
While there is some similarity in the speed and feel of most of these songs, it's mixed up in Hero Of the War, which feel far more upbeat and surprises at the change of pace. It helps to make a more aggressive statement as well, but also serves as an introduction to that side's more powerful songs. It doesn't keep up the pace, but it's a gradual fall.
The album is a fairly big production, but it hides it by blending it and keeping a few elements to the front rather than overwhelming it. It's a lovely album and the type of singer songwriter album that I hope I'll keep hearing as other, louder genres rise to the front.
The one hundred twenty-second TV show: #6 What's My Line
While I don't think I hold much hope for a lot of these early shows, when we were looking for What's My Line, we tried some fragments and enjoyed it. It became an easy pick now and we've been thoroughly enjoying it now. The idea is somewhat simple - celebrities attempt to guess a person's job or line, or try to determine the identity of a celebrity guest. They do this through asking yes or no questions and lose their turn if they say no. Ten no answers and the guest wins, which happens often enough. What sets the show apart is both that the panel plays incredibly seriously - at times they know exactly what to go for - and how they interact. It feels like a pretty formal show - male guests wear dinner jackets and the ladies lovely dresses, at times with gloves. The panel is addressed as Mr. ... or Mrs. ... by the moderator. At the same time, they are familiar enough with each other to banter and tease each other. It's a lot of fun to watch, both to see the game being played and see these players in action and it's all a great feel good show... available on Youtube right now to make it easier.
The seventy-fifth comic: #695 Yu Gi Oh
In the mean time, I've been reading Yu Gi Oh, which has been an interesting experience. I've only seen bits of the anime series and so came into it knowing there's a card game and some of the cards it features, but I've never paid too much attention and would be more familiar with games like Magic the Gathering that this is based on. Reading the manga is an odd experience then, as the card game barely appears in the first set of volumes. Instead, Yugi, the title character, solves an ancient puzzle that awakens a second personality in him that's good at games, and can trigger punishments for losing games. The first set of episodes is about him taking revenge on bad people and righting wrongs through games as he slowly takes on longer arcs and develops a set of recurring antagonists, as well as a mythology. Around the tenth volume, this picks up further as the card game takes over in the longer Duelist Kingdom arc, which revolves around these themes all using the card game, which pretty much has the only focus at this point.
The division is quite clear in my mind, and as the popular card game becomes the focus on the series, my interest goes down. There's something interesting about the different variations and parodies of popular games that appear and how they get visualized, as well as the punishments related to that. The card game starts off quite interesting, especially when the rules are quite loose, but they quickly start following a similar pattern: the opponent has a trick or somewhat of a cheat they use, Yugi or another protagonist is forced in a corner because of it, but because they trust in the cards they draw a card that wins them the game at the last moment. It's a fine device when used occasionally, but here it feels exhausting, with nobody playing fair and the flow of the series becoming predictable. I gave up at the start of the second arc, as it seemed clear that's how it continued, and I think that's the right point to do it if that arc doesn't interest you. Start at the beginning, but be prepared for the story's quality to drop.
The one hundred seventieth album: #170 The Fairport Convention - Liege & Lief
The second Fairport Convention album on the list starts off with what feels like a statement. While Come All Ye has its folk origins musically, the lyrics feel like they hide more modern concepts - rolling minstrels not being a phrase I'd expect in a folk song - which also defines the presence of rock instruments in the traditional-sounding music. Most of the remaining songs are traditional poems arranged by (part of) the band, which works well - the lyrics are mostly from poems I don't know, but the soft rock sound combines well with them and we get a nice tune overall. It's quite relaxing music, but in a way that hits deeper, and in a way that I can stomach better than pure folk.
The one hundred sixty-ninth album: #169 Leonard Cohen - Songs from a Room
There's something sweet and melancholic about the folk music on this album. Recently, the folk music has mostly been folk rock, with some throwbacks from Fairport Convention, but Leonard Cohen takes us back to a man and a guitar (and some other instruments). The songs feel modern, but unadorned, gentle, with a message, and incredibly pleasant to listen to. It's nothing complex, but the lyrics work well with a calm confidence that I really felt.