I cam from a mostly working class family; we really didn’t have much in the way of “high” arts in our home. My parents listened to the mainstream popular music of the day (and in retrospect I realize that they had great taste) — crooners, country music, Elvis — and like everyone we knew, they liked the movies and television.
So as I got more interested in a wider range of arts, I was usually on my own in my explorations; so I was always on the hunt for lists — “best of,” “most important,” etc. It’s important that you are always suspicious of the authority behind such things. . . and recognize that you’re always able to reject or start mentally constructing your own lists. But for a younger working class guy, interested in the cultural capital these art forms provided, and the occasional epiphanies and joy they provided, other folks’ lists were golden. I still can’t resist them: