Ep. XXXVI: ''Tis the Season' - Jimmy Buffet

 Welcome back, Internet.  Time for some yuletide jam scrutinage. . .

Album Title:  'Tis the Season

Album Artist:  Jimmy Buffet

This is one of those no-brainers, guy.  It's Jimmy Buffet, for Christ's sake.

If you've ever listened to a Buffet song in your life, you know exactly what this album sounds like:  Caribbean-infused country versions of Christmas favorites, as well as some less-known songs and even a few original compositions thrown in for good measure.  Lots of steel drums, lots of steel guitar, lots of hokey lyrics.

Again, it's Jimmy Buffet.

I gotta say, though, I'm glad I snagged this on sale for $8 instead of paying full price for it (despite the fact that it's on heavy-duty, white vinyl - I love me a gimmick.)  You know how people say you can tell if someone's smiling over the phone by the way their voice sounds?  Well, Jimmy Buffet isn't smiling much on this album:  he sounds like he's simply going through the motions to pocket another paycheck.  This whole album sounds phoned-in - it's definitely a let-down.

Did they photoshop this to make him look built?

There isn't any fire on this album - no stand-out tracks, no passion, no fury - and that's disappointing, because I'm a big fan of his other Holiday album, Christmas Island.  That album - recorded twenty years before this one - sounds like the whole band was having a blast throughout the entire recording process.  Lyrics about pirates and drinking in the sun - you could practically hear the Puerto Rican rum splashing all over the studio microphones.

'Tis the Season suffers from a few different things, aside from it's lazy and lackluster performance from Buffet.  For one, the entire album sounds less country and more Seaworld Orlando, as if Buffet - whose country background in the early 1970s gives his more famous work such heart - said to himself, "Oh, the Caribbean thing sells with the consumers, eh?  Let's increase the tropical sound by 170% and lose all the country bullshit."  There's almost too much steel drum on this LP, it's frickin' jarring.

I don't buy this camaraderie for one second.

Secondly, the song choice is terrible.  Just terrible.  Christmas Island had enough original music and enough well-executed versions of Holiday standards to really draw a line in the sand (with a pirate cutlass, obviously):  this is the 'Jimmy Buffet Christmas Album.'  'Tis the Season, on the other hand, comes across as 'Another Jimmy Buffet-sounding Album of Christmas Songs.'  Those two things are in no way, shape or form even remotely similar to one another.

Actually, you know what this album sounds like?  It sounds like all the band members flew into their state-of-the-art LA studio (the production value of this album is spotless,) being forced to ride coach because Buffet is too stingy to splurge on First Class for them.   The band all hate each other now, but Jimmy Buffet Inc. is a cash cow and they're not going to bite the hand that feeds them.  Upon arrival, Jimmy's talent agent gives all the musicians their marching orders - Jimmy doesn't even bother showing up to pretend he likes the band at this point - and they all record their tracks separately.  No one ever sees Jimmy Buffet, as he's out of town opening up a new Margaritaville in Seoul.

In fact, Jimmy doesn't lay down his vocal and guitar tracks until the very end of the recording process, long after the rest of the backing band have disembarked on their various private jets back to their far-flung homes.  He does a couple takes, constantly berating the sound engineers for not doing their job making him sound like he's still in his 20s, then storms off, half-drunk and doped up on Percocet.

. . . .

. . . why the hell don't I own Christmas Island on vinyl??

VERDICT:  6/10 - Meh  (Still sounds like Jimmy Buffet, but it's a stretch at this point.  This LP is Christmas Island's younger and far-douchier brother who tries too hard to be cool.)

- SHELVED -

Ep. XXXV: 'Favorite Christmas Carols' - The Caroleers

 Hi, Internet.  Let us dust off another Holiday train wreck, shall we?

Album Title:  Favorite Christmas Carols

Album Artist:  The Caroleers

This was a Radio Wasteland score that I picked up for a buck about a month ago, for the sole reason that it looked like it had potential for being comically terrible.  I definitely have some issues with this LP and its ridiculousness, but I think this is the first time I've been let down by a record not sucking more.  I was hoping for a shit sandwich, and instead I got soggy cereal.

Stare into the Face of Evil, America. . .

The artwork on this album definitely says it all:  there's no liner notes on the back, no legal information, no 'From Our Home to Yours,' campy well-wishing message that one so often finds on the back of 1960's Christmas records.  Nothing.  Just the same image that's plastered haphazardly across the front:  some wicker/glitter/dollar store monstrosity that some half-blind grandmother threw together for her church's Bazaar.  I think it's supposed to be a sleigh, actually. . . but I highly doubt this is the work of some skilled craftsman.

And why would the people who produced this album choose that image as the cover art in the first place?  Who the hell made this call?

You know what?  Nevermind, I know who it was.  It was the same creative director who designed the cover art for this shiny turd.

Anyway, drunken art direction aside, the music on this LP is pretty bizarre, but not outright terrible.  The first song, 'Hail Christmas' sounds like something from Christmas with Hitler (okay, I just made that up, but I'm sure even that asshole celebrated Christmas.)  German march-singing, beer hall accordions, and the repeated shouting of the word 'hail' - it doesn't take an overactive imagination to picture tens of thousands of Nazis in Santa hats shouting this song while saluting the Fuhrer.

The beer hall accordion plays pretty prominently throughout this album, too.  So does the church choir singing every written verse on each of these carols.  You know how popular recordings of Christmas Carols feature the two or three famous verses in the song, and if you go to church they sometimes spring an additional two verses on you that you didn't know existed before?  And you're all like, "Jesus, this song seems long - has it always been this long?  I don't remember this verse in 'Away in a Manger. . ."

That's exactly what we have here.  On every song.

And we even have a few moments of pure, Tennessee Ernie Ford-inspired terror on this LP, too.  Half way through 'Go Tell It on the Mountain,' the '60s kitschy folk-singing suddenly stops, and a deep, demonic baritone voice begins chanting ominously.  One can only expect this is the It on the Mountain - some horrible beast that lives on top of the Mountain that everyone is going and trying to tell things.  The whole thing makes for a real weird Christmas song, but hey - I'm assuming the It is more like the Abominable Snowman from Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, and you just gotta give homeboy a chance.

VERDICT:  4/10 - Borophyl  (Germanic drinking music, scary baritone voices, and a never-ending hoo-hah of '60s folk singing unabridged versions of Holiday carols. . . all wrapped up in what could be considered the most depressing arts-and-crafts piece ever created.)

- SHELVED -

Ep. XXXIV: 'Noel' - Joan Baez

How for art thou, lovers of jams?

Album Title:  Noel

Album Artist:  Joan Baez

This one's another Radio Wasteland score, guys, and for a mere $3, I figured 'why the hell not?'  Joan Baez is a legend, a folk singer who has as much musical street cred as Bob f***ing Dylan, and as such I assumed a Christmas album by a talented folk artist would make a nice addition to my ever-expanding Holiday record collection.  And again:  $3.

This one basically sounded just as I thought it might.  Baez's voice sounds exactly as it does on her mainstream songs - that high-pitched tremolo of hers - and the album (for being as old as it is) has some really nice depth to it.  The recording on this album is well done:  very sparse, to the point where you can almost hear how far back they placed the microphones in the room.  I looove that with quieter arrangements on vinyl.

Anyway, the song selection is also pretty much as-could-be-expected.  Don't expect Joan Baez to break into folksy versions of 'Frosty the Snowman' or 'Up on the Housetop' on this LP; hell, I'd wager Baez is the sort of person who maintains a level of deep pensiveness on an out-of-control rollercoaster.  On fire. 

No, the songs on this collection definitely plays to her demeanor:

What did raise an eyebrow, for me, was the style of arrangement for these standards:  this music sounds straight out of a Renaissance festival.  It almost passes off as the soundtrack to a movie where an ultra-hip folk singer from the '60s Greenwich Village scene stepped into a payphone booth and suddenly - and unexpectedly - traveled back in time to Ye Olde Medieval Europe.  And, because it's Joan Baez, she didn't so much as utter a sigh of agitation after the whole ordeal.  No, instead, she just continues to sing all folks-ily to the people gathered around her as if nothing at all out of the ordinary had transpired (although she probably adjusts her subject matter slightly as to not give the local peasantry cause to think her a witch, lest she be burned at the stake.) 

This album caused a "What the hell are you listening to?" from Kris as she passed through the Study this evening.  I mean, Baez's singing is an acquired taste for most, but in addition to that we've got harpsichords, lutes, bells, fiddles, pan flutes, actual harps, and all other instruments straight out of the Middle Ages on this LP.  And when coupled with ol' Joan's given song choices ("Cantique de Noel," which is sung in frickin' French, "Ave Maria," sung in German, "Down in Yon Forest," "Good King Wenceslas," etc. etc.), one's led to believe that this whole time-travel-to-the-Medieval-Era yarn of mine might have actually happened.  The subject matter and execution of the delivery is too perfectly matched to be a coincidence.

Rest assured, if time travel is ever invented, I'd be tempted to travel back to the 1300s with copies of this LP on hand, 'cause I guarantee they'd sell like frickin' hot cakes.

VERDICT:  6/10 - Decent  (Baez is Baez, but the Medieval-ness of this music can take some getting used to.  Still, it's interesting enough to keep around throughout the rest of the Season, so I'm going to make an exception of my 7-and-up rule.)

- REMAINS IN CIRCULATION -

Ep. XXXIII: 'Elf (Original Soundtrack)' - Various Artists

What's up, people.  Time to get festive. . .

Album Title:  Elf  Original Motion Picture Soundtrack

Album Artist:  Various Artists

So this movie has been a family staple for a few years now.  Not one of my personal favorite Christmas movies (I fancy myself a National Lampoon, Muppets, Scrooged sorta guy), but it's good.  The soundtrack is one that flows well, so I figured it might be good to pick it up on vinyl sometime.  Lo and behold, over the summer (of course) it dropped nearly 50% in price on Amazon, so I pounced on it.

Overall, this is a really solid Christmas album.  It has several powerhouse yuletide jams that are well worth the investment, such as The Brian Setzer Orchestra's 'Nutcracker Suite' (arguably the best seven-minute take on Tchaikovsky's famous piece in existence), Jim Reeves' 'Jingle Bells,' etc.,  As such it'll Remain in Circulation throughout the rest of the Holiday Season.

So why give it a '7'?

Well, for starters, there are a couple songs on this LP that just don't fit well on a Christmas album.  Louis Prima's 'Pennies from Heaven' and Billy Preston's 'Nothing From Nothing' are both great songs, and work very well in Elf. . . . but do they blend in as Christmas music?  Nope.  Nope they do not.  While they are prolific songs on the soundtrack, they're at odds with the garland on my mantlepiece and the nog-and-rum in my hand.

But, more notably, the real reason this album is brought down low to a mere is 7 can be summed up in two words, America:

Leon Redbone.

If you don't know who this guy is, folks, he's an old tin-pan alley singer from back in the day who sings in a weird baritone voice. . . and he's on, like, three or four different tracks on this LP.  His main claim to fame is that he's the dude that sang the theme song to the classic '80s TV sitcom, Mr. Belvedere.  See for yourself:

Why the music director in charge of Elf felt it necessary to resurrect this dude's career from the pits of who-gives-a-f***, I'll never know.  It'd be jarring enough if he were on there just once, but the geniuses in charge of this record put him on there multiple times.  The worst occurrence, of course, is for a duet with Zooey Deschanel (an actress from the film, who's also an indie singer in bands like She & Him) on the Holiday staple, 'Baby It's Cold Outside.'

Oh.  My.  God.

If you're already familiar with this song, you know it's a song meant for couples, and it's. . . well. . . . kinda rape-y in context.

A creepy guy won't let his girlfriend head home, even though her parents already worried sick about her, under the context that it's 'cold outside.'  The girl then notices something's in her drink, and all he can say is response are predator lines like, 'your lips look delicious.'

Maybe this whole scenario was acceptable back in the '50s or '60s, when this song was originally written and men got away with this crap all the time.  But this is 2017 - the year women called out such abhorred behavior, and brought down limelight heavyweights like Matt Laurer, Louis C.K., and - hopefully - Roy Moore.

This no longer flies, fellas.

What's worse about this already-disgusting song is the fact that Zooey and Leon singing the different parts of the duet make the song sound like an exhausted teenage girl trying to get out of a creepy, old man's living room.  And he just won't let her leave.  And he's giving her totally-uncalled-for advances that aren't being reciprocated.

No means no, Leon.

VERDICT:  7/10 - Pretty Rad  (A pretty solid Christmas soundtrack. . . . with a few jarring moments that make me want to take a scalding hot shower.)

- REMAINS IN CIRCULATION -

Ep. XXXII: 'Christmas Country Style' - Various Artists

Happy Day Off, music lovers.  I had to take a sick day today, so while I rest up here in front of a roaring fire, I believe it's high time for yet another installment of Holiday Jamitude. . . .

Album Title:  Christmas Country Style

Album Artist:  Various Artists

Right out of the gate, Side A Track 1, this compilation kicked me right in the balls.

While I'm a big fan of old 50s - 70s honky tonk and country/western, I have my limits.  Every man has his limits.  For many music aficionados out there (and I consider myself one of those whom has his musical taste buds pretty fine-tuned), I'd say those limits hover around the 'yodeling' neck of the woods.  Yodeling is just. . . well, it's just terrible.  Really terrible.  You hear me, Roy Rogers?  You want to do a campy version of 'Jingle Bells' and really show off your Honky Tonk-ness?  Do so without making me want to rip your throat out with my teeth, and stop the Goddamn yodeling already.

Bad things have happened here.

The yodeling takes this LP down a couple points all by itself, but fortunately it's an isolated incident.  The following songs follow in a far less-jarring manner, but none are real standouts.  To summarize, I think in this specific case, the idiom 'you can't judge an LP by its cover' doesn't quite ring true:  in this case, you can.

I have to admit, when I first picked this record up at Bethesda (59 cents, folks), I raised an eyebrow:  what kind of designer saw this out-of-focus, poorly-framed picture of a random shack in the woods and said, 'BAM - album cover!'  It's really concerning to me that someone was able to pass this photo off to some big-wig record exes during the packaging process.

But, as it turns out, the designer knew exactly what they were doing, because this image perfectly sums up this compilation.

This is definitely 70s country/western, but it's not a boot-stompin' hootenanny that makes me want to celebrate the holiday.  No, sir - not in any way, shape or form.  This is like a run-down shack, deep in the snowy woods, where a pathetic drunk lives;  he's lost his wife, his job, his family, and his dog, and all he does is sit around and drown his sorrows in a bottle of cheap booze.  With a Santa hat on, of course, 'cause it is Christmas.

With a few exceptions (way to try and keep the fire going, Buck Owens), the delivery on some of these standards is pretty slovenly.  They sound like the guys singing them were drunk while recording them, and, because this was recorded in the '70s, they probably were.  I've heard some really great Holiday honky tonk jams in my day, but sadly none of them are featured on this compilation.  Instead, we're treated to a slew of slurry ballads about the Holidays and Jesus (this shack is definitely located in a Red State, folks), and it makes me want to burn the whole shack down to the ground with the Drunk still inside.

Merry Christmas!

VERDICT:  4/10 - Borophyl  ("Baby Jesus - hiccup- and pretty paper. . .")

- SHELVED -

Ep. XXXI: 'Tchaikovsky: The Nutcraker' - The Philadelphia Orchestra

Hi again, Internet.  Time for a festive, Saturday morning jam analysis . . .

Album Title:  Tchaikovsky:  The Nutcracker

Album Artist:  The Philadelphia Orchestra

I'd be pretentious and say Tchaikovsky is my all-time, favorite Russian composer, buuut he's the only Russian composer I know by name.  I mean, are there other composers from Russia?  I mean, I'm sure there are, but hell if I know any of them.  So I'm not about to be one of those guys and pretend to be some shitty music snob about it.

Having said that, Tchaikovsky is my all-time, favorite Russian composer.

I guess you could call me a 'Best of' fan regarding his work, because I really only know his popular compositions, like the 1812 Overture, Sleeping Beauty, and this - his Nutcracker piece.  It's hard to have a solid Christmas without it.  It fills the instrumental void that only classical music can fill:  aside from religious music and instrumental versions of crap like 'Jingle Bells' and 'White Christmas,' there's not really a large amount of vocal-less music out there for the Holiday season.  The Nutcracker is, probably most notably, the most important instrumental addition to one's Holiday jam catalog.

Correct me if I'm wrong.

Hard to pass this up for 59 cents. . .

The story itself is, well, pretty creepy.  A little kid comes downstairs, bears witness to a horrific battle unfolding in her living room between suddenly--and-inexplicably-alive toys and abnormally organized and disciplined Napoleonic rats (or mice, I forget.)  She helps save the life of a Nutcracker (I think) who, in return, takes her away to his home land.

. . . 'Cause there's nothing illegal about falling in love with a little girl, stealing her away from her home in the middle of the night, and taking her to a far-off land filled with all kinds of weird shit.

If only today's LPs had frickin' books on the back of 'em like they used to. . .

Anyway, pedophilia and child trafficking aside, The Nutcracker is a great piece of music, and one I don't think I need to analyze in detail.  I should point out that I have no intention of rating this composition itself, as I don't feel I'm qualified to do so (I have a lot of respect for Classical music, and it's far too complex and deep for some hipsterly record-lover pushing 40 to 'analyze.')  Instead, I think I'll base my rating for this LP on this particular recording itself and it's Christmas worth.

The Philadelphia Orchestra does a commendable job with this piece, and there's not really anything to fault.  I think it's an older recording, so more recent undertakings would probably be able to capture the highs and lows better, but there's nothing too distracting here.  It's a sound packaging that captures the music well, and it's serves as a quintessential addition to one's Holiday collection, to be sure.

Having said that, there's a lot of music here, and only some of it is more familiar to those Christmas music-lovers out there ('Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies,' etc.)  Much of the music from The Nutcracker is less known to the masses, and as such it's hard to get the 'Christmas vibe' from it.  Rating it on that alone - the ability to invoke the Christmas Spirit from the music itself - and the somewhat dated recording, takes it down a few pegs in my book.

(I feel like I owe Tchaikovsky an apology. . . . but I don't speak Russian.)

VERDICT:  7/10 - Pretty Rad  (A great piece of music, and a mandatory addition to your Holiday music collection. . . but there's a lot of non-yule you can probably skip over.)

- REMAINS IN CIRCULATION -

Ep. XXX: 'Town and Country Sound of Christmas' - Various Artists

 Welcome to the 30th Episode of the Great Christmas Record Odyssey, America.  Let's flex them holly jollies of yours . .

Album Title:  Town and Country Sound of Christmas

Album Artist:  Various Artists

I picked this up from the Bethesda thrift store across from my school one day on my way home from work.  It cost 59 cents, the jacket was in Very Good + condition. . . that was enough for me.

A Who's Who list of boring, boring artists.

This compilation is supposedly put on by the good people at Town and Country.  I'm not entirely sure what the hell that is, though.  I mean, there was a Town and Country restaurant in my hometown of Clare, MI., back in the '80s and '90s, but that closed down years ago.  I used to drive by it all the time - it was right on the main strip of town - but I never once set foot in that joint, if only because it was where old people went to slowly pick at their homestyle platters in the dark.

Definitely not the sort of place I'd want to frequent.

So, was this LP released by some long-extinct restaurant chain?  It definitely sounds feasible, mainly because this album is the exact, audio representation of a dark room of elderly people, picking at their food in silence and patiently awaiting their deaths over plates of toast and casserole.  At this point, the meal, and the company, has become routine:  a worn out pantomime run on muscle memory that's lost all enjoyment or will to live.   That's exactly what we have here.

Most of these selections are by country artists - and, randomly, Lou Rawls and Ella Fitzgerald (token black artists - way to be progressive, Town and Country) - and most of these arrangements are as about as offensive and edgy as one could expect from a place like Town and Country.  This LP is a total bore-fest, which, in itself, would rank it a solid 4 on my trusty Holiday rating scale.  It's difficult to stay awake to this, with its muted music, too-loud-for-the-mix vocal tracks, and slower-than-necessary tempos, accompanied by warbling women and baritone men belting out boring renditions of Holiday favorites.

Then Tennessee Ernie Ford strolls in and scares the living shit out of everyone in the restaurant.

His Balrog-ish voice easily knocks this album down a solid two points, from a simple boring restaurant filled with old people down into a nightmarish hellscape where a demon from the 9th Circle of Hell emerges from a fissure in the Town and Country floor and starts terrorizing the elderly patrons trying to chew their macaroni and cheese.  Tables are flipped over, limbs are ripped off, adult diapers are soiled, blood flies everywhere, and no senior discounts are given.

If you listen to this album, may God have mercy on your soul.

VERDICT:  2/10 - Reality TV (A boring compilation suited for old people, made even more horrifying by Tennessee Ernie Ford's scarier-beyond-all-rational-thought sing-song 'crooning.')

- SHELVED -