Ep. XCI: 'The Sound of Christmas' - Living Strings

Happy Holidays, music lovers.  Try to stay awake through this one. . . 

Album Title:  The Sound of Christmas

Album Artist:  Living Strings

We're met today with yet another Dollar Bin offering, though I'm not sure from where or when I got this one - could've been Radio Wasteland, Bethesda, Salvation Army, whatever.  It certainly wasn't from Dottie herself - I don't know any Dottie's - but I feel like this isn't the first time I've come across her obvious old lady scrawl across an album cover.  I'm pretty sure I've reviewed a few of her donations in the past.

Anyway.

Guys, this album is from our good friends the Living Strings, a company orchestra that releases orchestral versions of popular songs, something that was all the rage back in the 50s and 60s.  This sort of record can be easily found at your local thrift store, because everyone over the age of 60 has crates of this shit lying around because they couldn't buy enough of these records back in the day.  

So you take a melody you like, remove the vocals, and replace the original backing music with a soft string section, and - voila - you have yourself an album tailored for background music.  This practice is still done today with artists like Piano Guys, Two Cellos, Vitamin String Quartet, etc. - people like the tune of a popular song but want it scaled down for background music.  It makes sense, and I actually own a lot of it (or have it in several of my Amazon Music playlists) - it's good for reading, digital graphic design, etc.

Well, while the intentions here are certainly laudable, the execution of the Living Strings is not.  While this is indeed background music, this particular album succeeds so well at accomplishing 'background' that it practically disappears entirely.  The whole point of background music is that you don't have to actively listen to it, that you can focus on something else and have it going in the background to hold back the silence.  With this album, you have to consciously listen to it because, if you don't, you'll forget it's even on.

It's nearly impossible to determine when one song ends and another begins, because every track on this album plays at the same tempo, pitch, and volume - there's zero dynamics on this album, and no variation in song arrangement.  One has to mentally check in from time to time in order to figure out what song they're listening to, and that, for me, defeats the whole purpose of background music.

This album isn't terrible, because the arrangements themselves aren't bad and it's obvious the musicians themselves are talented, but because of the lack of variety in the instrumental songs it is incredibly boring.  And I mean really boring.  Watching paint dry boring, folks.

They should have a warning on the cover of this one kinda like they do with Benadryl, because it will make you drowsy.

VERDICT:  4/10 - Borophyll (This snooze-fest succeeds so much at 'background music' that it fades from existence entirely.  Don't use while operating heavy machinery.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

Ep. XC: 'Christmas with The Canadian Brass...'

Don thee now thy festive jam-pants, children. . . 

Album Title:  Christmas with The Canadian Brass and the Great Organ of St. Patrick's Cathedral

Album Artist:  The Canadian Brass

Picked this lil' baby up at Radio Wasteland a few weeks ago, and for $2 - a click up from the dusty Dollar Bin, if you will, but still cheap enough that if you listened to it once and promptly discarded it you wouldn't feel sick to your stomach.  The cover art looked, to me, chintzy enough that it might make an entertaining album review at the very least.  I'm fine dropping a couple bucks for an hour of Yuletide audio scrutinizing.

Well, what we're faced with here is a pretty interesting record, to say the least.  I'll just come out and say it right out of the gate, folks:  this one ain't half bad.  Surprising, to say the least, considering the holly, jolly group of assholes we have on the cover, here.  

But yeah. . . not bad at all.

The track list on the this release is respectable:  mostly religious Christmas carols, but that's not necessarily a terrible thing, especially when given an instrumental offering such as this.  The Canadian Brass (I assume their from Canada) play the listed songs as a quintet, and it's exactly what you'd expect it to sound like.  A guy on french horn, two on trumpet, a trombonist (tromboner?), and a guy on the tuba, playing mostly religious Christmas carols.  It's a hell of a lot of brass to deal with, for sure, but the arrangements are done in a way that it's not overpowering (something sooo many Holiday albums in the past have butchered with over-zealous composers over-using their brass sections.)

Oddly enough, these five guys team up with the 'Great Organ of St. Patrick's Cathedral' for many of these songs (this cathedral must be in Boston, right?)  A little random, because a quintet of brass instruments and a large, cathedral-ish organ don't really go together like, say, gin and tonic.  When the organ's quiet, it almost compliments the brass instruments in the same way that a bass guitar might compliment a lead guitar, in that it provides background texture and subtle tone without overpowering the leading melodies.  That's just fine, but on occasion the organist plays too loud and it sounds like he's trying to get these random Canadians to pack up their shit and get the hell out of his church.

All in all, this is a really random album that makes some pretty decent background music.  I was really, really hoping this evening to get a chance to write up yet another funny album review - possibly eviscerate this corny five-piece with my clever wit and drop a '2' rating or something - but I'm gonna have to disappoint all you folks.  It's scoring a lot higher than I had expected it to:  the only faults I can find with it are 1.) after two sides of listening to just brass, you kinda wish they had the rest of the orchestra show up (some strings and percussion, namely), and 2.) the organ could've been kept to a background role and no one would've suffered for it.

That's it, that's my gripe.  

I apologize again for this entry being lame.  I'm just as weirded out by all of this as you are.

VERDICT:  6/10 - Decent (Umm. . . who would've thought five Canadians playing brass instruments alongside a Boston cathedral's pipe organ would sound halfway decent?  Not this guy.  I think I'll be keeping this one for future use, but doubt it'll make it into regular rotation this year.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

Ep. LXXXIX: 'The Roger Whittaker Christmas Album'

Time to get some Q.T in with the Rog, folks. . . 

Album Title:  The Roger Whittaker Christmas Album

Album Artist:  Roger Whittaker

If you've ever spent time in a thrift store digging through crates of moldy vinyl, searching for those usually non-existent rare finds, then you've definitely come across the name 'Roger Whitaker' before.  He shares crate space with the likes of Mantovani, Lawrence Welk, The Lettermen, and others of such ilk in just about every Salvation Army and Goodwill I've ever set foot in.

And folks, that's not a good thing.  There's a reason why folks dump such records off for a cheap tax write-off (along with soiled and outgrown childrens' clothing and tacky dishware that were found in a deceased grandparent's cupboards):  it's straight-up garbage.

Someone get this man some Head & Shoulders. . .

I've come across Roger a handful of times over the years, always on compilations (featuring some of the previously mentioned assholes), and I've never once been impressed by the guy.  How this dude managed to sell so many albums in his prime is beyond comprehension.  While listening to the opening track on Side 1 of this album, I'm convinced he's trying to be Cat Stevens (kinda almost sounds like him for a hot minute), until the slicked-up 70's production kicks in and the entire track drowns in cheese.  

After that opener, the album descends into music that can only be described as Grandparent Easy Listening.  The dude's got a baritone voice, for sure, but he can't seem to manage to bring that sense of gravitas to his songs like Elvis, Johnny Cash, Joe Cocker, or other similarly deep-voiced singers can do.  Nay, readers, Roger sounds like he's got one corduroy-slacked leg into an afternoon nap.  This near-yawning of his warbles along atop dated song arrangements that sound SO Late '70s you can almost picture the pornographic film they were likely inspired by. 

These two factors, while not doing Roger any favors when determining this album's overall rating, could be somewhat overlooked if the son of a bitch would at least have put some familiar Christmas songs on this release.  But no, we don't get any familiarity here whatsoever - it's a bunch of oddball weirdness, and honestly it's like some wood-paneled, shag-carpeted, parallel dimension where the only Christmas music that exists is bullshit that no one's ever heard before. 

All of these previously unheard of Christmas songs are boring and forgettable (hence this album's unavoidable return to the moldy crates of Salvation Army very soon), but a couple of songs on this album are so Goddamn terrible that I have to mention them briefly by name before we go: 

Side 1, Track 5. 'Darcy the Dragon.'  This Medieval romp sounds like Jethro Tull offered to take on a rock opera based on Disney's 1977 film, Pete's Dragon.  Renaissance Faire peasant music gallivants along in the background while an obviously-stoned Roger spins a yarn about a misunderstood dragon being chased out of a village or something by angry peasants, where he ends up in a magical forests and somehow - somehow - discovers the meaning of Christmas.  Or something, I don't know - it's only like three minutes minutes into the damn song that they somehow work Christmas into the lyrics.  I don't get why this song exists.

Side 1, Track 6. 'The Governor's Dream.'  The very next song, equally f***ed up, is some half-spoken word, half-song mini-play about Ancient Rome, wherein Roger plays the part of some Roman Governor who is troubled by. . . the Nativity?  An omen?  Something to do with Baby Jesus, I'm sure - how else are Romans being associated with Christmas if not by association with Baby Jesus?  So Roger acts out this song, speaking instead of singing quite a lot of the time, but then the music kicks in and a loud, boisterous chorus begins to rattle the rafters.  What ensues is a full-on shouting match with his backing choir, who continue to sing stuff like, 'Glory, Glory,' etc., and in return he starts barking at them like an angry, old racist yelling at a bunch of black teens to stop using the sidewalk in front of his house.  Repeated bellowing of "WHO SINGS, WHO SHOUTS?" from Roger Whittaker is just what the house was missing this Holiday Season, for sure.

At the end of listening to this album, I'm sure my facial expression matched the one on the kid to the far left:

VERDICT:  3/10 - Seriously? (WHO SINGS, WHO SHOUTS???)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

Ep. LXXXIII: 'Our Family Favorites' - Various Artists

Merry Christmas from Trump Country . . 

Album Title:  Our Family Favorites

Album Artist:  Various Artists

This is, by far, the shittiest thing that has happened to me all Holiday Season.

I picked this up from Radio Wasteland for a buck, and I did so based solely on the corny album cover.  Just look at this nonsense:

You can tell that the folks who put this record together - and I'm gonna get back to those assholes in a minute here - were trying to convey a lovely group of family and friends, sitting around a large country living room during the Holidays, enjoying one another's company.  It's snowy as all hell outside, there's a tree up in the corner, a wreath on the large picture window in the background - all things point to Christmas, right?

Hell no.

To me this looks like a bunch of people waiting for a missing member to come home so they can spring an intervention on him.  If you look carefully at the faces of these people, only a few look happy - the rest are looking off camera, as if expecting someone at any minute.  And the way they're all seated around in a circle, clearly uncomfortable?  All signs point to bad news coming.  Just look at the woman in the blue dress - she's definitely impatient and wanting this whole damn thing to be over and done with.

And that's how I feel about this entire album, folks.  It's a lie.

I picked this up from the Christmas dollar bin assuming it was a Holiday album, but if there's anything here at all that's 'Christmas,' it's that Goddamn tree on the cover.  That's it.  Upon looking at the back track list - something I was too stupid to do then, but will definitely be doing from this point forward - I was horrified to find NOT ONE single Christmas song.  

Not.  One.

This is a collection of CHURCH songs.  And no, dear readers, not churchy Christmas songs (like 'Silent Night,' 'Hard the Herald Angels Sing,' etc.)  No.  This is straight-up church songs, prefaced by - way for it - Billy F***ing Graham.  They pulled the ol' bait-and-switch on us all, slapping a Christmas tree on the front cover, and even including a Holiday scene with people DECORATING CHRISTMAS TREES on the back (which, by the way, was 100% photographed on a movie lot, those aren't even real frickin' buildings):

Everything about this album is a LIE.

  

But hey, let's play Devil's Advocate here and rate the songs for what they are.  Let's pretend this isn't a Christmas Record Odyssey at all, and that for the past 87 episodes I've been reviewing Church Records instead.  Even then, I would butcher this horrible, dumpster-fire of an album - guys, it's really that bad.  This is one of the worst albums I've ever heard, and I've reviewed some really, really bad albums over the years.  

The song arrangements here vary between congregation gospel and cheesy 70s easy-listening, and in no way, shape or form is there one, single MOTHERF***ING song that is worth listening to (maybe the Cash one, but even this isn't all that good.)  About half of the songs on this album feature some of the worst singing I've ever heard in my entire life, making Kate Smith sound like Aretha Franklin.  There's ZERO commonality in the tone of the music, either - the only unifying element to this whole collection of bullshit are the mega-Christian lyrics.  It's like a mix tape slapped together by a neglected, dementia-ravaged grandmother hopped on goof pills and rotting away in her piss-soaked Depends. 

What's crazy about all of this is that Johnny Cash bothered to make an appearance.  I'm assuming this was after his TV variety show was cancelled in the 70s and he figured, 'Hell, a paycheck is a paycheck.' An outing of such notoriety is truly below him and the fact he signed on to this at all boggles the mind to no end.  

Almost as much as the fact that there are a few non-white artists on this album, because - as the Billy Graham intro, cavalcade of Evangelical artists, and Bible-thumping content suggest - this is clearly Republican territory, and they ain't necessarily known for tolerance.

God, I'm so pissed I spent money on this f***ing thing. . .

VERDICT:  1/10 - Ohio (If the Evangelical branch of Q-Anon made a Holiday album, it might sound like this.  Minus the conspiracy theories and references to blood-drinking Democrats, of course. . . but having some of that might've actually improved this album.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

Ep. LXXXVII: 'A Music Box Christmas'

Strap on your Holiday pants and get ready for an ole timey Christmas jam session. . . 

Album Title:  A Music Box Christmas

Album Artist:  None (yes, seriously)

I never thought I'd actually review an album that no one performs on.

This album is free of human beings entirely.  Not one human being on the entire frickin' record.  No one sings, no one plays instruments, no one does anything (unless you count the guy that winds up each music box and lets it play.)

As the album artwork suggests, this is a recording of various music boxes, each that plays a Christmas carol, borrowed from the collection of Rita Ford (no, not Lita Ford.)  I'm assuming they borrowed a couple totes of music boxes from this Rita chick, drove them down to the recording studio, set them up one at a time time in the sound booth, cranked 'em up and let 'em fly.  

Honestly, a pretty easy way to make yourself a Christmas record, folks - the only work required is to wind up a frickin' box.

So I'm honestly not sure how to go about reviewing this album.  There's nothing particularly wrong with it, I guess - it's 100% a bunch of music boxes playing different Christmas favorites - but it's far from what I'd consider enjoyable music.  If you've never  before in your life heard a music box playing a melody, it sounds like various lengths of tiny, metal tubes being struck in different patterns in order to create high-pitched, tinny, almost bell-like sounds.  Very mechanical, and very painful on your ears.

Some people love these mechanisms, and while they used to be all the rage back in, oh, the late 1800s, they went the way of the dinosaur once the phonograph arrived on the scene (click on the pic below if you're interested in the history of music boxes.)  You can still find these wind-up little melody contraptions inside little girls' jewelry boxes and things like that (you know, where you open the lid and there's like a little ballerina spinning around or some shit, I don't know.)  Hell, we have one ourselves that's part of our regular Halloween decor - it's from Disney's Haunted Mansion and plays the ride's signature theme song, 'Grim Grinning Ghosts.'  Pretty awesome.

All things considered, music boxes are fine for what they are - something you wind up once in awhile in order to hear a simple melody - but I, personally, am of the opinion that one should not record a whole frickin' Christmas album with them.  It's just too much.  Even a 7" recording would be a stretch, let alone a full-length LP.  So it's taking this into consideration that I have to rate this particular album pretty low:  while the craftsmanship that went into these hundreds-year-old contraptions is certainly nothing to scoff at - they still sound flawless after all this time - this record is painful (literally) to listen to, and not something you'd ever be in the mood to listen to.

VERDICT:  4/10 - Borophyll (I'm giving this album a few mercy points because, to be fair, the music boxes themselves are clearly works of art. . . but that doesn't mean any of us should have to listen to them for longer than, oh, thirty seconds.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

Ep. LXXXVI: 'Merry Christmas from Lawrence Welk and His Champagne Music'

Who's ready for some Yuletide crappiness? 

Album Title:  Merry Christmas from

Album Artist:  Lawrence Welk and his Champagne Music

Right off the bat, when I first saw this lil' gem in the dollar bin at Radio Wasteland last week, I noticed the fine print that read "and his champagne music."  As if champagne music is a.) a thing, and b.) commonly associated with Lawrence Welk.  Like you'd be walking your sidewalk down the street back in - I don't know when he was around, the '50s? - and he'd drive past you in his convertible blasting this signature music of his, and you'd say to your dog (because obviously if you know this much about Lawrence Welk, you're certifiably insane), "Hey Gina, there goes Lawrence Welk and his champagne music. . ."

Makes sense, right?

Not sure how 'champagne' sounded in the '50s, guys. . . but I wouldn't have expected it to sound like this.

This is the ugliest Christmas Tree I've ever seen.

Nope.  This, to me, sounds like kid-friendly, '50s-mainstream Disney music; watered down, rated G, and appropriate for listeners of all ages.  Like, remember that Disney live-action movie, Parent Trap?  Imagine that they made a sequel to that movie, and it was Christmas-themed (like, if the kids have to get their parents to re-divorce over the Holidays or something, I don't know.)  Well, the soundtrack to that train-wreck of a movie premise would sound like this.  

. . . what do you think he has in the box?

Not sure how champagne factors into that at all.

I don't know much about this Lawrence Welk guy, but the way these songs are listed, I'm assuming he's some kinda song arranger, not necessarily a musician or singer.  On a few of these numbers, he has vocals credited to other people, who must've been hired to sing over some of his numbers.  

There are several singers on this collection, but the most prominent are some group known as The Sparklers, who must have landed on their group name because they're the vocal equivalent to actual sparklers. Which, as we all know, are the lamest form of fireworks in existence - at the bottom-of-the-barrel on the  Fourth of July Fun scale.

The Sparklers sound like a squeaky-clean ensemble that was first spotted singing in their church youth group, and their pastor told them that singing on a Lawrence Welk album was their big ticket to stardom.  Being a bunch of naive virgin idiots - I guarantee you every, last one of The Sparklers is a virgin - they pounced at the opportunity.  The same could probably be said for the Lennon Sisters, another vocal group hired to sing on this album, who sound like they're a couple of ten-year-olds.

(I'm not about to make a joke about those kids being virgins too, folks.  Damn straight those kids are virgins.)

Anyway, I could go in more detail here, buuuuuut. . . there's no point.  This is the most unoffensive, child-friendly, G-rate Christmas album that I've heard in a long, long time, and it all sounds the same.  To the point where you're not sure where one song ends and another song begins. . . like being stuck on the It's a Small World ride at Disneyland, only it's Christmas-themed and instead of little, stereotyped doll-things from around the world you have choirs made up of either church-virgins or little girls, all with smiles on their faces so wide you'd think they were frozen in place with Botox.

VERDICT:  4/10 - Borophyll (Like being stuck on a Disneyland ride for too long, this album's G-rated nonsense will grind its way into your skull.  And the only way to get rid of it is by driving it out with a bullet.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

Ep. LXXXV: 'Elvis' Christmas Album'

We've had a lot of weirdness lately, America.  Let's play it safe this time around.

Album Title:  Elvis' Christmas Album

Album Artist:  Elvis Presley

After a cavalcade of really, really bottom-shelf Holiday albums, I decided I needed a break.  Something that wouldn't subject me to a prolonged period of torture, something I could throw on the ol' turntable and breathe a sigh of relief. 

This was just the album for that.

Hail to the King

The King of Rock and Roll* - a term I use with a huge-ass asterisk next to it, since Elvis never wrote a single song in the entirety of his career - sure came out with a ton of Christmas music in his day.  This shouldn't' be surprising, though, since he came out with a heap of albums during his lifetime (and many, many more that came after his infamous, toilet-related death.)  This album contains quite a few of his treasured favorites, but - as is the case with other artists I've reviewed over the years on this blog of ours - it's not for everyone.

If you love Elvis, you'll love this.  If he's not your favorite, odds are you're not gonna like this one.

For me, personally, I prefer Elvis' more upbeat, rocking numbers than his crooning, slower, more introspective songs.  The young Presley/Perkins/Cash/Lewis era of early Country/Rock and Roll in the '50s, where the King was swinging his hips in a manner that scared the bejesus out of White Society.  That's my jam.  Not so much the latter, bloated, crooning Elvis that wore bedazzled leisure suits and sweated profusely.

There's a bit of both Elvises on this album, which I guess is unavoidable considering the guy's range and variety of singing styles and the demand for him to do various genres (rock, country, and gospel, namely.)  I'm fine with this duality because the music of the Holiday Season has its bangers and anthems, just as it has its more chill and low-key carols.  Fortunately, given the King's vocal prowess, he's able to handle both - it just boils down to your own personal preference which Elvis (and consequent songs on this album) you prefer.

"Blue Christmas" and "Santa Claus is Back in Town" are upbeat, swaggering numbers that sound like the rebellious youth, and these two are hands down my favorites.  His churchy numbers on display here, of which there are several, aren't necessarily bad, but they're. . . just not my favorites.  I've heard other artists do them better, but that's not to say that Elvis' versions are bad, per se.

All in all, this album is a safe bet, as it has a little of everything from a reputable legend, who has the rare ability to deliver a signature sound across a wide spectrum of song styles.  This one won't go down as one of my favorite Holiday albums, but it's certainly nothing to stick your nose up to.  Take that for what it's worth, I guess.

VERDICT:  7/10 - Pretty Rad (The King of Rock and Roll made a Christmas album, and it sounds exactly as you'd expect.  No surprises here, good or bad - it's vanilla ice cream, but ice cream nonetheless.)

- REMAINS IN CIRCULATION -

- Brian

Ep. LXXXIV: 'The Care Bears Christmas'

You're all about to think a lot less of me. . .  

Album Title:  The Care Bears Christmas

Album Artist:  The Care Bears

We're really reaching into the far corners of Christmasdom here, America.  Down deep into the black recesses of the Holiday Season, where sinister things lie dormant, awaiting their chance to rise up and unleash pure evil upon unsuspecting revelers.

I give you The Care Bears.

I saw this album at Radio Wasteland a year or two ago and just knew it was going to be a frickin' shit-show, but that would make it fun to review at the very least.

I was wrong.

You'd expect this to be the voices of the Care Bears from the TV series and movies, singing familiar Christmas songs - God knows that's what we've seen before in this Record Odyssey of mine, what with Disney's main cast of characters, with The Muppets, and even with Alvin and the Chipmunks.  Those albums, while definitely children's albums at heart, are executed with precision (arrangements, sound levels, voices, etc.)  Each of these childrens' albums (the Muppets might transcend the 'childrens' label, but they've always straddled the line between 'children' and 'adult') one can listen to without cringe-shuddering with disgust.

This album brings forth the worst feelings one can experience while listening to a Holiday album.

For starters, it's like they couldn't secure the rights to any famous Christmas songs except 'We Wish You a Merry Christmas,' as if these hundreds-year-old Christmas songs aren't public domain.  Did the producers of this album think there's a copyright on 'Jingle Bells'?  What in the actual f***?  Why wouldn't you throw some famous Christmas carols on an album like this, stuff little kids would instantly recognize and be able to sing along with?

That's just the tip of the iceberg, though - it gets waaaaay worse.

The voice-acting here may be some of the absolute shittiest vocals I've ever come across.  Firstly, these are not the original voice actors from the 1980s series, nor the higher-budget movies (which, if you'll recall, I reviewed before on this blog, back when my kids were obsessed with both direct-to-video movies and watched them multiple times a day.)  How do I know the voice actors are different?  I researched it.  I'm not necessarily proud of it, but I did it.  They try and make the bears sound the same, and they sound somewhat similar, but are still noticeably different.  Could they not even secure the original voice actors for this nonsense?

No, they grabbed random-ass people to voice the Big Ten bears (the main characters from the show/movies), and this was the second big mistake the producers of this album made:  these motherf***ckers can't sing at all.  Not even in squeaky cartoon voices.  For Christ's sake, even the dude that voiced Goofy was able to stay in character and 'sing' in Goofy's voice on the Disney Christmas album - here we have voices cracking, people clearly turning away from the microphone when they can't hit their notes. . . it's a disaster.

As unstoppable as this franchise was in the 1980s, it boggles the mind coming to grips with how little care (pun intended) was given while making this album.  The arrangements and production of the songs is garbage, the sound levels are all over the place - it's like it was mixed by a high school A/V club - and performed on a simple Casio keyboard (drums and all.)  The 'skits' that are featured in between and lead in to each song sound like they were recorded during an elementary school Christmas pageant.  Obviously, little kids growing up in the 80s would've loved this album, but I guarantee you that this Christmas album right here, while played repeatedly by stupid children, caused dozens - if not hundreds - of divorces.  

It's that bad.

If there is any proof at all that there is a God out there, it is that a.) the Care Bear Cousins do not make an appearance on this album, and b.) none of the songs chosen for this shit-show of a Christmas album reflect the religious aspect of the season.  There are no 'Silent Night,' or 'Little Town of Bethlehem,' or 'Hark the Herald Angels Sing' to be found, and that is truly a God-send.

If I had to hear Grumpy Bear or Lionheart sing 'Away in a Manger,' I would 100% kill myself.  No doubt about it.

VERDICT:  2/10 - Reality TV (This is one of the worst Christmas albums I have ever heard, and the ONLY reason it ranks as high as it does is because it could've been so much worse.  One pity point is given because the producers had just enough lucidity to realize that the Care Bears shouldn't be singing about Baby Jesus.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

Ep. LXXXIII: 'Holiday Sing Along with Mitch' - Mitch Miller

Prepare yourself, comrades, for a Luftwaffe-level assault on the Holiday senses. . . . .

Album Title:  Holiday Sing Along with Mitch

Album Artist:  Mitch Miller

Sweet Baby Jesus.  This one's weird, folks.

Such versatility. . .

Mitch Miller made a name for himself with an early '60s TV series called Sing Along with Mitch, that featured this dude and a male chorus (choir?) singing traditional, folk, and pop songs, while lyrics flashed along the bottom of the screen with one of those bouncing balls over each word as it was sung.  Due to the show's popularity - yes, it was popular with viewers -  they released a whole slew of records for people to sing along with.  Pop records, country records, showtunes records, and, like we have here, Christmas records.

Look at all these wonderful. . . lyric sheets.

The fact that someone could make so much money on something as stupid as singing along with music - something we all do anyway with regular, non-karaoke records - really says a lot about the early 1960s and how starved they were for entertainment.  The packaging on this album is interesting, for sure.  There's a still-intact lyric sheet with tear-out pages for each song, so folks could - I assume - rip out the page for the song they were listening to if. . . they didn't feel like holding. . . the entire album cover. . . .?  I guess?  I don't get it.

Anyway, so what does this slicked up production sound like?  Well, have you guys ever seen that meme online that says that when men reach their middle ages they have to either get really into smoking/grilling meats or really into World War II?  It totally makes sense to me, and Yours Truly is definitely guilty of the latter.  This evening I was actually watching the Stalingrad episode of WWII in Color (or something like that - it's really, really good) on Netflix shortly before retiring to the Study to put this album on my turntable.  Upon dropping the needle down, I immediately experienced flashbacks to what I had just been watching.

The first handful of songs on Side 1 are marches, sung by a boisterous male choir (chorus?), seemingly recorded in a large, barren room (the reverb and distance in their voices clearly give this away.)  And maybe it was the fact that I had just been watching German soldiers marching victorious through the burning fields of the Soviet Union in 1942, but listening to these first few songs it was impossible to not imagine a smoky beer hall filled with celebrating Nazi infantrymen.

Why are Nazis singing Christmas carols?  Why are they singing in English?  Who the hell is playing all the accordions?  

Questions like these I don't have answers to.

Not every song on this sing-along album sounds like Nazi propaganda, though.  There are polka-ish numbers, which shouldn't be too shocking for anyone, considering the rabid obsession Americans had with polka music in the '60s.  Other songs sound more folksy in nature (folksy in the Rankin Bass/Glenn Yarbrough The Hobbit vein, that is) - again, not too shocking considering the climate of American music back then.  There's even some children's songs on here. . . and yes, they're equally justifiable and run-of-the-mill for the time period.

While the song styles themselves vary every-so-slightly, the one consistent variable across all songs on this album (aside from the over-reliance on accordions) is the relentless, Aryan male choir.  Whether the song's fast or slow, hard or soft, march or polka, folk or children's, the Fuhrer's Supreme Choir rolls ever onward, crushing all resistance in its way.  There is no stopping the constant barrage of baritone, male bellowing that refuses to cede a single inch or decibel across both sides of this Holiday album.  Poland, France, Belgium, Norway, Czechoslovakia. . . . and now Holiday Sing Along with Mitch. 

What we really need here is for this choir to suddenly find itself bogged down and stuck in snowy, -30 degree weather for awhile.  

If history has shown us anything, guys, it's that a Russian Winter is a sure-fire way to force the Germans to a grinding halt. . .

VERDICT:  4/10 - Borophyll (Indiana Jones said it best, folks: "Nazis. I hate these guys.")

- SHELVED -

- Brian

Ep. LXXXII: 'Have a Holly Jolly Christmas' - Burl Ives

Look sharp, America - we have ourselves a genuine Holiday celebrity to deal with this evening. . . 

Album Title:  Have a Holly Jolly Christmas

Album Artist:  Burl Ives

Burl.

What kind of a parent looks down at a newborn baby and says, "Yup, 100%.  This baby looks like a Burl."  That parent must've been three sheets to the wind that day - it's a good thing Burl wasn't born with fetal alcohol syndrome.

Snow Bro.

Anyway, the poorly-monikered Mr. Ives is as recognizable around the Holiday Season as Santa Claus and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. . . more or less because all three of these guys were in the same movie together.  Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer - the stop-animation classic that came out in, like, the 1940s or something and has since become one of the most prolific Christmas movies in existence - features ol' buddy Burl as the voice of the film's narrator (a snowman who looks an Asian Wilford Brimley.)  Because of his role in the movie, and the fact that he sings a couple songs as well (which are on this album, actually), it's easy to slip right into this album and make yourself at home.

This is a really crappy graphics job. . .

The opening/title track of this album is the aforementioned one from Rudolph, and any person in Western Civilization could readily identify it.  This no-brainer of a Christmas jam has been covered many, many times, but no version I'm aware of holds a candle to the original.  It's not that Burl's necessarily a good singer (he's okay, I guess, but his voice is more novelty than talent), or that the song itself is awesome, it just oozes with nostalgia.  EVERYONE grew up with this song, so it's part of our shared Christmas experience.

If the entirety of Burl's album generated this type of emotional response, then we'd have a definitive Christmas classic on our hands (like Vince Guaraldi Trios' Charlie Brown Christmas, for example.)  Sadly, that's not the case with this particular album, because it loses its audience right away at the beginning of the second track.  

Burl, famous in the secular Christmas sphere, wanders over into the religious part of the Holiday season, singing about Jesus' birthday and what not.  To say this is jarring would be an understatement:  the churchy stuff is about as far removed from Santa, Christmas Trees, Rudolph, etc. as you can get, so when you have the guy that was literally a f***ing snowman suddenly singing about Jesus, it's like getting dosed with a bucket of ice water after stepping out of a sauna.  It's hard to separate Burl's voice singing about Jesus with the mental imagery of Wilford Brimley Snowman. . . and having a Wilford Brimley Snowman singing about Jesus would be. . . . well. . . just terrifying.

This slap on the face happens a few times on this album, but honestly that's my only gripe (even though I think it's a substantial one.)  If you like hokey 60s Christmas music, slathered up and down with Christmas nostalgia and invoking the memories of dozens of Christmases from yesteryear, then this album is for you.  Burl kills it on the children's songs ("Santa Claus is Coming to Town," the jams from Rudolph, etc.), as well as on the more secular songs - you can tell where his comfort zone is, for sure.

A folk singer by trade, Burl's unique voice - which you either like or despise - fits the song arrangements pretty well.  Not necessarily something you'd want to jam out to all the time, of course, but as was the case with quite a few albums I've reviewed in the past, this album fits a unique niche.  For those nights when you're perhaps looking through old photo albums of past Christmases by a fire, or writing out addresses on Christmas cards, or other such quiet, contemplative moments of the season, this is a sound choice.

VERDICT:  6/10 - Decent (I was going to give this a '7,' because overall it's pretty good, but aside from his upbeat, famous songs, all his other secular stuff is just decent. . . and his religious stuff is pretty weird.  I'm gonna keep this one, but can't say how often it's going to end up getting played every year.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

Ep. LXXXI: 'The Sound of Christmas, Vol. 2' - Various Artists

Amidst the rapidly chilling weather, let us warm our hearts and souls with some Holiday blandness from yet another thrift store compilation. . . 

Album Title:  The Sound of Christmas, Vol. 2

Album Artist:  Various Artists

This acquisition was made last year when I bought a stack of used vinyl from my local Bethesda thrift store.  I actually haven't gotten around to purchasing any used Christmas vinyl this year, as I'm sitting on about a two-dozen that I still need to work through.  I paid 50 cents for this, and, as you're about to find out, I probably paid too much.

The album cover alone is a clear indicator that what you're about to put on your turntable is bonafide garbage.  The concept, I'm sure, was supposed to be two children experiencing the magic of Christmas by gazing upon a Christmas tree.  I can't decide if it's the lighting here, or the kids' clothes, or maybe the kids themselves, but something causes this concept to fall flat.  

The Unloveables

For me, when I look at this, I see a couple of young urchins in an orphanage gazing longingly at something they can never have for themselves - a genuine, family Christmas.  Perhaps all the cuter, more desirable orphans were already adopted into loving families, and now, in the bleak pit of their mutual despair, these two are drawn to a lonely, horribly-decorated Christmas tree set out in the orphanage common room.

No lights, just uglier-than-sin glass ornaments that look like they were hand-crafted by depressed and feeble-minded orphans who grew up in the system before being kicked out at the age of eighteen.

Maybe that's a stretch, and maybe I'm reading too much into a shitty album cover, but one thing's for damn sure:  this recording is just as depressing as the scenario as I just described.  This is yet another lackluster addition in a long line of releases from our Usual Suspects:  The Lettermen, Nancy Wilson, Glen Campbell, Peggy Lee, a couple different orchestras, and the infamous and terrifying Tennessee Ernie Ford.  

I'm not going to go too in depth with this analysis, because I feel like I've reviewed this album a dozen times before in one form or another After awhile a lot of these comps begin to sound the same:  overly-dramatic orchestral arrangements for songs that don't need it, boring medleys, spoken 'from our house to yours' messages, terrible song selections, tone-deaf singers, and, in this particular case, the terrifying bellowing of Tennessee Ernie Ford singing about - no joke here - Virgin breasts, guaranteed to shaken the resolve of even the hardiest of yuletide revelers.  

This is, once again, background music for the elderly, perhaps shopping in a department store in the late 60s/early 70s.  One of those stores that's closed on Sunday because having a store open on Sunday hurts Jesus' feelings, and where retail salesmen still get a commission on how many new vacuum cleaner models they can sell.  

Throughout this bleak, Holiday hellscape, the warbling of shitty Christmas music wafts across the stained tiled floors and carpeted walls and into the hearing aids of its patrons, who hum (out-of-tune) along with the Balrog-like crooning of Tennessee Ernie Ford.  

God does not live in this place.

VERDICT:  3/10 - Seriously? (Another turd from the Usual Suspects.  Not the worst compilation from these assholes I've heard in my years of rating Christmas Records - Nat King Cole's delivery on a track earns this compilation a point - but it's still not good enough to be called 'Boring.'  This is just terrible enough so that it can't manage to fade into the background.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian