Welcome back to another yuletide, holly jolly jam-fest, America. . .
Album Title: Pretty Paper
Album Artist: Willie Nelson
Willie generally falls within that category, too. . . but what we have here is, like, Willie's lame, chromosome-deficient half-sibling. Instead of marijuana, whiskey, gravel and blood, this Bizarro Willie knows only doilies, living room organs, lemon squares, and the unbridled joys of a good, fleece throw.
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| What the f*** is up with that beret and earring? |
Anyway, this whole album features that aforementioned living room organ prominently on every track on this record. It sounds exactly like the ones found in either one of my grandmothers' houses growing up. Warbly, poor-toned eye-sores that were more novelty than instrument. In the '60s and '70s, they were probably living room staples, I'm sure; much like the Hi-Fi, wet bar, and umbrella stand. I had fun playing on them when I was a kid, but shit - what the hell did I know when I was a kid? I thought the Civil War was the greatest thing ever and played with G.I. Joes until I was waaaay too old to be doing so.
But let's get back to Mr. Nelson, here.
If you're looking for a solid Honky Tonk Christmas album, folks, I got some bad news for you: this sure as shit ain't it. This isn't even close to Country; hell, the stuff they're playing on 'country' stations now sounds more country than what we have here. This album was cut in 1979, which may explain the gooey delivery of Bizarro Willie, the heavily-used Grandma Organ, and the creepy song list (a bunch of kids songs, Willie? SERIOUSLY?)
I'm disappointed with this, to tell you the truth. I figured I might stumble across a song on this record about a rebellious drifter rolling on down the highway, low on gas and money but full of Christmas cheer (and a bellyful of whiskey to boot.) Or perhaps a slow ballad holiday song about a drunkard all alone on Christmas Eve, sitting in the dark, drunk, and thinking about his lost love and prioritizing his yuletide shit.
But no.
Here we have a woozy crooner butchering kids songs, far out of his element, somewhere in the bowels of his grandmother's living room.
It's really weirding me out.
VERDICT: 4/10 - Borophyll (Sympathy points for being Willie Nelson, who - despite what we have here - is a bonafide badass.)
- SHELVED -
Album Artist: Tennessee Ernie Ford
You know that ol' phrase, 'fool me once, shame on you/fool me twice, shame on me'? That's kinda what we have, here.
At first, upon dropping the needle, I was met with a moderately fast country version of 'Up On the Housetop,' and I thought to myself, 'Well gall'darn - maybe Tennessee Ernie Ford has redeemed himself on this one' ('cause God knows his past appearances on some of those Christmas compilations have been train wrecks.)
Well, that was pretty short-lived. As soon as the dude started singing, I once again remembered why it is this guy grates me so damn much in the first place: his cartoon-villain, baritone voice. It works for Johnny Cash, one of my top five favorite musicians, 'cause in his case it sounds like a man with a deep voice singing with conviction. With Mr. Ford, though, you get the feeling that he actually talks like an average-pitched person, and is going out of his way and trying to have those baritone pipes.
The result is, well, unsettling.
If Skeletor's legion of bad guys on Eternia were cutting a Christmas album, Tennessee Ernie Ford is the first dude they'd phone up. No doubt about it.
This album's arrangements are hokey, and with Ford's creepy bass-heavy voice crooning over top of it, it's hard to imagine this album being any worse than it already is.
. . . but then the spoken verses appear.
I don't who the hell enjoys the spoken verse on an album. If I'm listening to music, I don't want to hear someone stop singing only to start talking to me - that's like watching a dramatic scene of a movie and then having the actor turn to the camera, breaking the fourth wall, and speaking directly to the viewer. It's jarring, and it's stupid.
But that's not even the worst part, folks. Oh yes: this album gets worse.
Worse than Ford's singing, worse than the corny spoken verses (which are soooo bad they're almost awesome at times), is the children's choir. Ford - for whatever Goddamn reason - decided to record a Christmas album full of children's songs. If having someone like Ford groaning over a collection of kid songs wasn't creepy enough, he has an accompaniment of children singing throughout the album. Unlike the Disney children's chorus, which sticks to background vocals, on Ford's album the kids are the main attraction: there are kids singing solos on this record, which puts the kid front and center on several of these songs.
What's so wrong about kids singing? Well, nothing, I guess. . . but when they're singing back and forth with Ford's cartoon villain voice, it sounds HORRIFYING. It sounds less like a Christmas album and more like Tennessee Ernie Ford has a bunch of kidnapped kids locked away in a pit in his basement, and in order for them to receive food, he demands that they sing Christmas carols with him. They cry and beg to be let go, but Ford - dressed like a woman, wearing lipstick, and screaming at them in his sinister Holiday voice - demands they sing for their supper.
You know that ol' phrase, 'fool me once, shame on you/fool me twice, shame on me'? That's kinda what we have, here.
At first, upon dropping the needle, I was met with a moderately fast country version of 'Up On the Housetop,' and I thought to myself, 'Well gall'darn - maybe Tennessee Ernie Ford has redeemed himself on this one' ('cause God knows his past appearances on some of those Christmas compilations have been train wrecks.)Well, that was pretty short-lived. As soon as the dude started singing, I once again remembered why it is this guy grates me so damn much in the first place: his cartoon-villain, baritone voice. It works for Johnny Cash, one of my top five favorite musicians, 'cause in his case it sounds like a man with a deep voice singing with conviction. With Mr. Ford, though, you get the feeling that he actually talks like an average-pitched person, and is going out of his way and trying to have those baritone pipes.
The result is, well, unsettling.If Skeletor's legion of bad guys on Eternia were cutting a Christmas album, Tennessee Ernie Ford is the first dude they'd phone up. No doubt about it.
This album's arrangements are hokey, and with Ford's creepy bass-heavy voice crooning over top of it, it's hard to imagine this album being any worse than it already is.
. . . but then the spoken verses appear.
I don't who the hell enjoys the spoken verse on an album. If I'm listening to music, I don't want to hear someone stop singing only to start talking to me - that's like watching a dramatic scene of a movie and then having the actor turn to the camera, breaking the fourth wall, and speaking directly to the viewer. It's jarring, and it's stupid.
But that's not even the worst part, folks. Oh yes: this album gets worse.
Worse than Ford's singing, worse than the corny spoken verses (which are soooo bad they're almost awesome at times), is the children's choir. Ford - for whatever Goddamn reason - decided to record a Christmas album full of children's songs. If having someone like Ford groaning over a collection of kid songs wasn't creepy enough, he has an accompaniment of children singing throughout the album. Unlike the Disney children's chorus, which sticks to background vocals, on Ford's album the kids are the main attraction: there are kids singing solos on this record, which puts the kid front and center on several of these songs.
What's so wrong about kids singing? Well, nothing, I guess. . . but when they're singing back and forth with Ford's cartoon villain voice, it sounds HORRIFYING. It sounds less like a Christmas album and more like Tennessee Ernie Ford has a bunch of kidnapped kids locked away in a pit in his basement, and in order for them to receive food, he demands that they sing Christmas carols with him. They cry and beg to be let go, but Ford - dressed like a woman, wearing lipstick, and screaming at them in his sinister Holiday voice - demands they sing for their supper.
"IT SINGS 'HARK! THE HERALD ANGELS SING' OR ELSE IT GETS THE HOSE AGAIN."
VERDICT: 2/10 - Reality TV (It gets a pity point for the slightly country tone, cheesy inspirational note on the back, and comically terrible spoken verses found throughout this record.)
- SHELVED -
- Brian
