Ep. CXLVI: 'Twenty Best Loved Carols' - The Tappan Zee Madrigal Singers

Wait wait wait - a Renaissance-inspired, a cappella, Christmas album recorded by a bunch of nerdy high school students in the 1970's? Did Christmas come early this year or what?  

Album Title:  Twenty Best Loved Carols

Album Artist:  The Tappan Zee Madrigal Singers

So, when I hear the word 'Madrigal,' I think of that shitty Disney movie Encanto. You know how each Disney movie that comes out now has to highlight some random culture from elsewhere in the world ('cause diversity)? Well, Encanto is based somewhere down in South America, and the main family's surname is Madrigal. The grandmother is a huge bitch and should have been killed off by the drug cartels instead of her husband at the beginning of the movie, but hey - Disney didn't consult me when they were developing the film.

Anyway, 'Madrigal' on this album doesn't refer to Encanto, but instead to some random form of Italian singing dating back to the Renaissance and Late Baroque periods (I clearly didn't know this ahead of time, I Googled it when I first checked out the album cover.) So what we have here, by the looks of things, is some '70s-ish Choir of young adults (or teenagers), recording Christmas songs as a Choir for some Holiday album. In a Renaissance-y sorta way.

You excited yet?

Right away we can get a pretty good idea of what we're getting ourselves into here. Hell, we just covered a different high school choir recording a Christmas album (well, sort of) a couple weeks ago. These people are bound to be able to sing well enough (otherwise why the hell would they get their own Holiday alb- wait, never mind, I've reviewed plenty of albums that were horribly sung.) 

The recording quality here sounds half-way competent - they didn't hire the local 'tech guy' from the First Baptist Church down the street to run the reels - so this album, from a production standpoint at least, isn't terrible. 

The same can't be said for the song selection, and, well, the arrangements.

Whoever arranged these tracks wrote the vocal sheet music as if they were a Medieval Times enthusiast with a hankering for Beatnik literature and math-jazz. There's a sprinkling of songs on this release that sound traditional, in a church choir singing a familiar church song sorta way, but most of the album is just. . . odd. The arranger/conductor/whatever leaned hard into a contemporary sound for these 'Madrigal' singers, in order to - and I'm spit-ballin' here - capitalize on their 'youthful energies.' 

Imagine you're a composer in his mid-40s, working at some university or whatever, and you special in vocal arrangements. You're fond of cigarettes and turtlenecks, and have appeared on multiple, local television programs in that 2am-5am window. You've been given money by a school to record an album to showcase the school's talented choir, and all you have to do is write renditions of twenty, random Christmas songs, with vocals arrangements that fit the performers.

So, falling to hubris, you start concocting the most un-Christmas-y sheet music known to man. Imagine Charlie Brown's Christmas album, but geared towards 18-year-olds who are obsessed with Shakespeare and the paintings of Edmund Blair Leighton. It's a career-killing move, unless you're tenured and can literally do whatever the damn hell you want at your age. 

These vocal arrangements are far too 'jazzy' for standard Christmas Carols sung by a choir - this sounds like the sort of nonsense art students would listen to during the Holidays. And not the usual 'hipster' art students, mind you - don't get me wrong here, folks. No, these are the classically-trained art students who LOVE the Middle Ages and revel in Medieval aesthetic. Like, you know damn well each and every one of them has a favorite chanting monk.

Jesus, just look at the picture of this choir on the front album cover - do you think they were asked to dress like that or they just showed up to rehearsal wearing those get-ups?

Is that the whole 'Madrigal' thing I learned about? Weird chord progressions and vocal acrobatics? Sure, they show off a vocalist's range, but. . . who honestly cares how well a 17-year-old can sing? Do you? Are you going to get invested in a bunch of kids who can sing well, and, like, follow their careers over the years and root for them? Maybe start following them around on tour in a Volkswagen bus and make a series of poor decisions along the way?

No. Hell no you're not, because nobody cares about teenagers. Trust me, I know - I teach middle school. 

This album's major failing (aside from the aforementioned vocal arrangements) are that a solid portion of this track list is comprised of songs that no one, in their Goddamn right mind, would ever want to listen to. Especially on a Christmas album. Yeah, they have a few famous Christmas staples on here ('Joy to the World,' 'O Come All Ye Faithful,' etc.), but they're outnumbered by over double the amount of obscure, religious songs that were most likely penned by penitent monks in the 12th century. They could be based (loosely) on Jesus' birth and the Nativity and whatever (the church-y Christmas stuff), but it's a stretch.

I mean, what the F*** does 'Balulalow' mean?

They had the audacity to name this album Twenty Best Loved Carols, when, in all actuality, it should have been named after the second track on Side A, 'Come, Gay Shepherds.'

Wakka wakka.

VERDICT:  4/10 - Borophyll  (This album should be burned at the stake for witchcraft. It gets a couple pity points for having a few, traditional - but still boring - church-ish choir numbers in its track list. )

- SHELVED -

- Brian

Ep. CXLI: 'Songs for All Seasons' - Angelus Choir

Alright music lovers, time for another frightening dive into the nether regions of Holiday musicalness. . . 

Album Title:  Songs for All Seasons

Album Artist:  Angelus Choir, Directed by Naomi Stucki

I've reviewed a lot of Christmas albums over the years with choirs, but I don't think I've ever reviewed one this low budget before.

This lil' beauty was picked up from Radio Wasteland a couple years ago (from the Dollar Bin, obviously), and its selection was based solely on the fact that something this ridiculous-looking - and obviously low-budget - would have to be pretty fun to listen to.

It did not disappoint.

I often remark about 'production value' in these Christmas Records posts, how some albums seem to have a lot of money behind them judging by the quality of the mix, the arrangements, vocal levels/clarity, etc. Other times albums appear to be mixed by a brace of crackheads who have broken into a basement in order to steal copper wiring to fund their next fix, only to find a crappy, DIY recording studio on the other side of a beat-up washer and dryer.

There's zero 'production value' to speak of on this album. This album sounds as if someone brought out a cassette recorder, hit 'record', and let a room full of young girls give it the ol' college try for a half an hour or so.

Basically how I recorded all my college band albums back in the early 2000s. Except replace 'teenage girls' with 'drunk guys in their early 20s with delusions of grandeur.'

Anyway, here's what we got: there's a woman behind a church organ, but not one of those giant, brass-piped mamma jammas that shake the stone walls of a cathedral. Nay, this is one of those wood-paneled jobs that every congregation across the United States has (almost always manned by some 90-year-old woman whose sole, remaining purpose in life is to man said instrument.) In fact, this maybe one of those instances where we can 100% judge an album by it's cover, folks - this is exactly what this album sounds like.

They bring in like twenty or so teenage girls, have them crowd around the old crone and her organ (and sometimes she's got it set to 'piano'), and have them sing a selection of church music. Based on the audio, I'd wager that the audio is being picked up from a solitary microphone suspended from the ceiling, right above the organ. The vocals drown out the organ whenever the gals start belting it out, and I'd make a joke here about 'yOu'D tHiNk ThEsE gUyS wOuLd SpRiNg FoR aNoThEr MiCrOpHoNe,' or something, but based on the fact that the rear side of this album sleeve is BLANK (see image at right), I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that money is an issue.

Which makes sense when you realize that this First Congregational Church, located in my old college stomping ground of Kalamazoo, Michigan, is no longer a church and is now some local library or something. If only they would have sold more of these stellar choir albums, maybe they wouldn't have had to close down, who knows.

So can the ladies sing on this album? Uh, I guess - they sound like a high school choir singing, honestly. Probably better than I could sing, but like, who cares? 

I guess I'm struggling with the whole purpose of this album, you know? Who's the target audience, these kids' parents? Folks who attend (well, used to attend) this church? If the First Congregational gang ended up shutting down, was this recording why? Did this fool-hardy project bankrupt them? I can't imagine pressing vinyl was super cheap back in the day, and they clearly didn't have a giant budget to begin with (see: no rear sleeve art, only one microphone, etc.) Was this a wise move, recording this in the first place? Couldn't these kids' parents just listen to them sing in church and call it good? Why waste the money?

Anyway, back to the music, sorry. About 80% of the music on this album doesn't even qualify as Christmas music. It's mostly church music, so the fact they titled this venture 'Songs for All Seasons' is kinda shitty. Yes, technically you're right - you can listen to church music all season long. But who's going to throw this album on in the middle of May with a few Christmas songs on it? I love me some Christmas music, but even I cringe whenever I hear Holiday jams outside of the mid-November to New Years Eve window. 

In summary, this album is a choir of teenage girls singing along with an organ, poorly recorded, with a track list that could hardly be considered a Christmas album at all. The singing isn't terrible, per se, it's just a bunch of teenage girls singing along to church music. . . so, if that's your thing you might actually like this (though that's a bit pedo-ish of you, not gonna lie.) Personally, as I listen to it I find myself not being impressed or entertained at all. If anything, I want to learn more about these girls' identities and what ever happened to them. Did any of them ever go on to record further music? Do they work at the library now? So many questions. . .

VERDICT:  3/10 - Seriously? (A gaggle of teenage girls from Kalamazoo poorly record an album that hardly qualifies as a Christmas music, bankrupt their church, then. . . I don't know, probably go on to make further poor decisions later in life.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

Ep. CXXXV: 'Holiday Greetings' - Birchwood Chorale

Strap yourself in for another spin around ye olde turntable, gang. . .

Album Title:  Holiday Greetings

Album Artist:  Birchwood Chorale

I'm not entirely sure where this one came from. I have a stack of, like, forty un-reviewed LPs downstairs in my storage room that I pull from every year for new posts on this site of mine, and because of this I never made it out to Radio Wasteland this year - my local record store - to pick up any more. Probably the first time I haven't done so in like six or so years, Jim most likely thinks I'm dead. Anyway, if I had to guess, I'd wager I picked it up from their Dollar Bin at some point int he past, because it was still shrink-wrapped with the price sticker (a whopping 99 cents) still on it.

Brand new, never played, about as Mint as a forty-five year old record can be.

. . . this can't be a good sign.

So kicking things off on Side A on this sum'bitch, I realized that this album cover art was a little misleading. I assumed there'd be a stand-out, female vocalist on this release. Some chick who, as the picture indicates, enjoys her Holidays with some LCD in her egg nog. Not so much the case, though - I should've caught the 'Chorale' at first glance and realized then that it was a choir-based album, and not some churchy-type tripping balls on yuletide acid.

We've reviewed a ton of 'chorales' on this blog over the years, and the sound majority of those generally sound like church choirs, landing anywhere on the 'professional' to 'Cousin Frank has a microphone-to-reel set up and for $40 and a case of Schlitz he said he'd record your church group next Thursday at 3pm' scale. This doesn't quite sound like a church choir to me, despite some of the religious carols that are being sung here. No, this is more dramatic, like some 'touring' group that puts on a show at your local civic or arts center, and you go with your significant other for like $10 a ticket and sit around a bunch of other folks who equally were in the same 'Eh, it doesn't sound like an awesome time, but if you're bored we could go and check it out' boat.

That's the sort of show where the vocal arrangements are artsier than they need to be, in order to display the singers' range - which, to be fair, is pretty good here. No doubt these folks can sing, and the recording quality is on point for the time: it's mixed well, no dramatic highs and low that make you spill your drink out of fear or anything like that, and the male and female vocals emerge out of the left and right channels (you would want to listen to this in Mono for sure.) There's no music accompaniment except for a soft piano here that serves more as a grounding agent than anything else, so most of the heavy lifting is done by the chorale.

Not falling into the pitfalls of the more-common-than-it-should-be-practice of 'Holiday Originals,' the folks who laid out this track list crammed it full of Holiday staples. This make sense, because if you were going to your local civic center to watch this three-hour choir concert (because you're old now and that's what passes as weekend entertainment at this stage in your life) and you didn't recognize any of the songs, you'd probably have a long, awkward ride home afterwards. And you'd be sleeping on the couch.

You could probably listen to one song off this record and be like, "Okay, I get it." But after nearly forty-five minutes, or seven hours, or however damn long this album is, I feel a little like I'm hallucinating myself. Has this been the same song the entire time? Is the five-headed wreath harpy on the album cover merging into a singular, yuletide Beelzebub? After so much dramatic singing to little-to-no music - often times dialed up to 11, in like John Williams' 'Duel of the Fates' territory,' you feel your brain melting down the back of your shirt.

Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but I think I'll just skip the acid and just stick to whiskey in my egg nog this Holiday Season, thank you very much. I'm too old for a long, strange trip like this.

VERDICT:  5/10 - Meh (Decent singing, as far as chorales go, but one can only take sooo much of this kind of art form in one sitting before questioning the reality of everything around them. And personally, I don't like it when the colors on my walls start speaking to me. . .)

- SHELVED -

- Brian 

Ep. CXXIX: 'Christmas Hymns and Carols, Volume I' - The Robert Shaw Chorale

Hope you guys weren't looking forward to hearing instruments this evening . .

Album Title:  Christmas Hymns and Carols, Volume 1

Album Artist:  The Robert Shaw Chorale

So here's another prime example of Yours Truly picking up an album out of Radio Wasteland's Dollar Bin solely due to the shitty album cover.

An assortment of orphans singing for table scraps, out in the cold, while the warmth of a festive Christmas party (one can only assume) can be seen shining through a nearby window. One of the kids is holding a battered, old book far too thick to be a Hymnal of Christmas carols, and even if it was he apparently doesn't need to read it while singing. Being an orphan, he probably can't read anyway. Two of these kids are so hungry they can't even keep their eyes open, they probably don't live through the night.

Great album cover, guys.

This is an old record. You can tell because the mixing on this album is pure dog shit. The audio levels are all far too quiet and the surface noise is atrocious, even after a thorough cleaning on my Spin Clean. 'High Fidelity' my ass.

The choir itself is fine for what it is. It sounds like a church choir, like what you'd see in a large, more upscale church. Like a Catholic Church. Where there's high vaulted ceilings and a crap-ton of candles standing about. Depressing statues posed in nearby wall niches, rich mahogany pews, giant stained-glass windows, a bunch of pervy, bald men having 'mischievous secrets' with unsuspecting children in hidden anterooms.

Not like one of those 1970s brick-and linoleum congregational churches with faded carpet and shitty coffee that looks like a doctor's office and smells of old people and dust.

There's not much to comment on this one, I apologize - this is gonna be a quick and easy review. Each of these tracks consists of a medley of standard, religious (and, if not religious, at least somber) carols that blend together well and, for the most part, are all familiar to the casual Christmas music listener. This helps because if they included 'original' Holiday songs, this album would be really, really weird. What kinda stuffy church would have the audacity to have their choir sing original numbers during the Christmas season?

No surprises here, all safe choices.

I can't think of a pressing need for an album such as this. If you're relaxing at home, listening to Christmas music, would you really want to be listening to a choir album? I mean, really? This is an a capella choir album, too - there's zero music in the background anywhere. Just a bunch of people, standing around a collection of microphones, singing church songs. If that's your idea of a good time, by all means, you do you - you might thoroughly enjoy this album.

But I sure as shit don't wanna hang out with you.

VERDICT:  5/10 - Meh (As far as a capella Christmas choir albums go, I guess. . . . it's. . . okay?)

- SHELVED-

- Brian

Ep. CVIII: 'Swingle Bells' - Various Artists

Welcome back to the Odyssey. Grab a drink, guys - you're gonna need it for this one. . .

Album Title:  Swingle Bells

Album Artist:  Various Artists

A quick glance at this one, one is immediately struck by the 'clever' play on words, Swingle Bells. You know, 'Jingle Bells'. . . buuuuuut with some kind of a 'swing' element thrown in. So when I saw this one at Radio Wasteland last weekend (this one I snatched up recently), I figured this was too good to pass up. 

I mean, 'swing' could mean several, different things. Perhaps it's the sort of swing from the 1940s, the Glenn Miller variety. Or it could also mean 'swing' in the 1960s, pop way (a la Ray Conniff, etc.) Maybe some kinda Hooked on Swing sorta thing, who knows.

But then one's eyes are drawn to the rainbow coloring of the text, and 'swingle' suddenly takes on a whole, different meaning all together. Perhaps, dear readers, 'swing' in this sense is a Saturday night party, in some South Florida gated community, where a bunch of older guys get together, drink a lot of bad things, and do lots of gross stuff to one another. Underneath the mistletoe, of course - this is a Christmas album. 

I mean honestly, this could go in a lot of different directions, folks.

Yet, now that I'm listening to it, I still don't know what to make of this album.

First things first, these aren't legit artists - if they were, they'd have their name on the front cover (or, at the very least, credited next to the songs on the track listing on the back.) No, this is like an eight-person a cappella group (too shitty to even have a frickin' name) but backed by a stripped down band of - I assume - local studio musicians. The production value of this album, while certainly not setting anyone back in terms of 'paying for talent,' is at least mixed well.

And that, dear readers, is about the only thing that this weird, weird album has going for it.

What I've learned this evening is that there is, indeed, such as thing as too much 'swing.'

The singers on this album can definitely carry a tune, so there's nothing to complain about in terms of their actual voices, per se, but rather it's the manner in which they're wielding these voices of theirs that's the issue.  There's a lot of scat-singing (I'd say 'scatting' here, but I think that has to do with animal poop or something), which actually outranks yodeling on the Most Annoying Singing Styles Scale. 

Like, why use words when you can just sing 'bum-bum-ba-dum dum, biddy-biddy-dabba-babba' and crap like that to the tune of Christmas carols?

What the f***.

Technically, there's only like eleven tracks on this particular album, but most of these are medleys, which means the overly-jazzy, full-swinging scat-singing usually stops after the first leg of the medley and then abruptly transitions into a church choir singing softly and quietly the unintelligible lyrics to some European peasant carol. You literally go from go-go dancing to German monks singing in crumbling cathedrals in only a handful of measures. Call it a medley if you want, but I think it's more accurately referred to as a shitshow.

"Thank you coming to this evening's performance.  Have a safe drive home."

Want a feeling for what this album sounds like? Pretend you and your date are going out to your local Community College for a Thursday evening (yes, Thursday evening) musical program, back in the mid-'60s. Neither of you attend said Community College, nor do you know anyone who goes there, but admission is only $2 and what the hell, right?  Well, it's the Holiday season, so you're expecting to hear some Christmas songs (that's a no-brainer) so after you guys pick up some complimentary hot chocolates and take your seats (first come first serve, folks), the 'show' starts. 

The theater and music clubs that put this on then take the stage, all dressed in black turtlenecks. There's interpretive dance, there's a small collection of beatnik musicians at the rear of the stage (all clearly high as kites), and there's a lot of spoken word deliverance between the music numbers, delivered by angry-looking women who seem to hate the Holidays just as much as they hate the Patriarchy. 

At the end of the evening, on the drive home, your date doesn't say a f***ing word to you. And you never hear from them again.

Sound like fun?  Of course it doesn't.

VERDICT:  3/10 - Seriously? (Turns out 'scat' does mean shit.)

- SHELVED-

- Brian

Ep. LXXX: 'Christmas in Velvet' - Derric Johnson and Re'Generation

Hey Internet, who's feeling randy this evening? 

Album Title:  Christmas in Velvet

Album Artist:  Derric Johnson and Re'Generation

Just. . . just take a look at this album cover and tell me what your first thoughts are:

Now, maybe I'm way out in left field with this, but, to me, when I read something like Christmas in Velvet, my mind goes to horrible, horrible places.  Like, watching Showtime or Cinemax at 3am places.  The very word 'velvet' anymore only conjurs up one of two different images:  a.) 'luxury,' at least according to elderly people, or b.) tacky pornography.

Christmas in Velvet takes it one step further and decks out the album art in red - the same hue of red as a hooker's boots, or the stained-up carpeting in the back room of a peep show.  I guess 'blue' or 'green' velvet wouldn't have reached the level of 'Yule' the good folks at Impact Records, so they relied on the good ol' 'sex sells' angle.

(This was made in 7th Grade Woodshop.)

Nevermind that there's a Nativity scene on the front of the album, though.  A Nativity that looks like it was carved from a single chunk of wood by either a 3rd Century A.D. Celtic priest or a special-needs, alternative ed student.

Album artwork aside, this album is. . . well, just f***ing awful.

This offering is from Derric Johnson's vocal orchestra, cleverly (pfft) named - get this - Re'Generation.  What the hell does that hyphen in there every mean?  I teach History, not English, so my grammar is admittedly rusty, but I'm pretty sure this is just grammatical foolishness on display, here.

The back of the record references this Derric guy's family, and then there's a reference to his Re'Generation 'family.'  Soooo I'm not sure if all the folks that are singing on this album are members of his family (a la Partridge Family), or else they're just other singers and he affectionately refer to them as 'family.'  Honestly, I'm not sure which is worse:  having a family of human beings legitimately sound like this, or convincing others to willingly participate on an album that sounds like this.

This does not sound anything like a traditional choir.  For all the times over the years of analyzing Christmas vinyl where I've made fun of church-ish sounding choirs, or choirs of children singing, or whatever. . . I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry.

Because this is so much worse.

Re'Generation sounds like they booked gigs at Sea World in the late '70s, and also provided the ooooohs and aaaaahs for low-budget, '70s Sci-Fi movies.  I'm one or two of these folks could be considered 'singers,' but the way these assholes are all thrown together is just random.  Who in the actual f*** arranged this album?  Was this Derric?  

Just look at all these treasured favorites. . . .

90% of the time, this album does not sounds Christmas-y in the slightest:  had this album been sung in a foreign language, so I couldn't ascertain the lyrics, most of the time I wouldn't guess this was a Christmas album.  It's part World Music, part Brady Bunch singing, part contemplating-old-Irishman-staring-across-the-moors-thinking-about-his-struggles, two parts battling banshee sopranos, three parts bass vocalists trying to out-boom each other, and four parts community theater musical.  

Folks, this is so bad I kinda wish this would have been the soundtrack to a Nativity-themed, softcore Cinemax movie instead.  At least then the f***ing title would make sense. . .

VERDICT:  2/10 - Reality TV (Not even the subliminal promises of hooker sex, and the family affair collaboration of Re'Generation can save this straight-up dumpster-fire of a choir.  It gets one, lousy pity point for the shitty album artwork that gave me a chuckle when I picked it up in the thrift store.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

Ep. XXXVIII: 'The Sounds of Christmas' - Fred Waring

 Time for another installment of pre-Holiday Season weirdness, America.

Get your Jam Pants on. . .

Album Title:  The Sounds of Christmas

Album Artist:  Fred Waring and the Pennsylvanians

I'm going to start this off by saying that this is a really, really bizarre album.

Now, you wouldn't really think it by merely looking at the album cover (though anyone who comes up with 'The Pennsylvanians' for an ensemble name is probably a bit weird.)  If anything, one would think that, upon looking at the album artwork, this would be yet another 'down home Country Christmas' offering, focusing on vocal-heavy, organ-and-bell numbers the likes we've seen, oh, thirty or forty f***ing times already in this Great Christmas Odyssey of ours.

I sure as hell did.

Well, you'd be wrong, folks.  This album does indeed focus on the vocals - the Pennsylvanians are more or less a church choir, and they do their churchy choir thing as could be expected.  Barely any musical instruments to be found here; you're more or less sitting in a church pew for this one, listening to your fellow parishioners belt out Holiday carols.  Not terrible, for what it is.  If that's your thing, you'd probably love this offering.

(Me?  Not so much.)

What's really weird about this album is the random sound effects.  When I read 'The Sounds of Christmas,' I assumed - like most folks probably would - that this referred to the various carols the choir was singing.  Well, what it refers to is church bells, train whistles, the sounds of crowds and cars, etc. - basically anything the guys who mixed this down could get their hands on.  I feel like some asshole with a reel-to-reel recorder was walking around the outside of the church, trying to get inside to record the choir, and accidentally had the recorder running as he was frantically trying to find the entrance.

Not very professional, Fred Waring.

Sound effects aside, no song on this album is very long.  They get about a minute into a song before they fade out and fade back in to the choir singing another Holiday carol.  Sometimes it fades out back to church bell sound effects, other times it fades in to a children's choir, or organ music that doesn't have anything to do with what the choir was previously singing.  I'm pretty sure the guy who mixed this album down was high as a kite.

Then, inexplicably, there's an ol' timey slave spiritual in the middle of Side A.  I shit you not.  Like, think Roots.  It makes NO SENSE, and as I was playing this in the comfort of my Study, I literally glanced over my shoulder to make sure there weren't any African Americans standing in my backyard that might take offense to me playing this.  The slave spiritual eventually transitions into a southern revivalist banger, as if a group of African American church-goers from the Deep South burst open the previous church's doors and hijacked the recording process for a song or two, then left without saying anything.

After a song or two of borderline racist-randomness, it goes right back to the boring, run-of-the-mill church choir warbling.  With no previous indication that the slave spirituals and Black Church testifyin' ever happened.  Did the elderly church choir even notice?

This album gives me anxiety.

VERDICT:  3/10 - Seriously? (Random sound effects and slave spirituals do not equate to Holiday music, Fred Waring.  This album scores a pity point for being sooo random that I plan on keeping it among my Christmas collection just so I can play it for people once and awhile as proof of its existence.)

- SHELVED -

Ep. XXVIII: 'Joyous Music for Christmas Time' - Various Artists

 What's up, fan base.

We're officially in the Holiday Season now, so it should go without saying that Yours Truly is already hilt-deep in his record collection, scrounging up Christmas treasures won from various record stores, thrift shops, and. . . well, Amazon.

For the last two years, I've shared with you one of my all-time favorite - and borderline obsessive compulsive - Holiday pastimes:  the audio scrutinization and analysis of every last Holiday record in my ever-expanding record collection.  This year is no different, folks - I've got a horde of new albums to review, some fake logs on my gas fireplace, and some yuletide 'nog all set and ready to rock and roll this evening.

So throw on your Santa hats, fetch yourself a holiday cocktail, and let us do this. . .

Album Title:  Joyous Music for Christmas Time

Album Artist:  Various Artists

Okay, but before I start off with this, I should point out that I have no idea where this came from.  I've had it for a couple years now, and just haven't gotten to it in my previous year's Holiday record rating.  There's no price tags to be found, but the inner paper sleeves - while still in pretty good shape - aren't in the Near Mint condition that would give it away as being a former number from Granny's collection (which I inherited.)  These records also have some hissing surface noise to them (fortunately no pops or anything), which is odd - it tells me that this collection was well-loved and often-played.

And that, dear readers, is kinda sad, really.  For whomever previously owned this particular 4-LP box set must have had a really, really weird taste in music.

I had some high hopes going into this box set, folks, I really did.  Some of the songs are a straight-up full-choir tour-de-force, backed by roaring church organs and brass.  Kinda like if you were dragged to your Grandma's church one Sunday in December, but unlike the church your family usually goes to, your Grandma's church is one of those centuries-old, castle-like cathedrals downtown, with a shitload of stained-glass windows, a full orchestra, and a 200-person choir conducted by Basil Poledouris (see:  Conan the Barbarian.)

It's the sort of music that makes you want to celebrate the Lord's birth. . . then run to the nearest living thing and chop off it's head with a mighty broadsword.

But sadly, those few songs are about all this boxed set has to offer.

While these numbers - mostly from the first record - relish in their epic yule-ishness, the majority of this collection is more humble in arrangement and sound.  There's some quieter organ work, which sounds less like Conan and more like one of those warbly deals you can find in living rooms all over the 1970s.  We also have some '60s easy listening and some hymns.  Then some more hymns.  And also some hymns.

Then the boxed set attempts to 'kick it up a notch' with some futile attempts at operatic singing, as if you were dragged back in to your Grandma's church, where one of the old choir ladies in their congregation starts singing with delusions of grandeur.  And you have to sit there and listen to this random old lady pretend she's on some theater stage, belting out her rendition of Silent Night, all the while you're trying so hard not to laugh that you pee yourself a little.

Apart from the other three albums, one whole record in this boxed set is comprised of selections from Handel's Messiah.  If you like that classical piece, cool.  You might like this boxed set.  I personally don't have anything against it, per se, but neither am I one of those guys who drives around listening to frickin' Handel during the Holiday season.  Tchaikovsky, sure.  Handel?  Not so much.

I mean, I love Rossini and Mozart, but I don't want either of those dudes on my Christmas album, folks.

In conclusion, I'm seriously considering tossing out Records 2 and 4 from this boxed set and re-rating this collection a 6. . . but that would require getting up, walking across the Study and into the Kitchen in order to reach a trash can, and. . . well, I'm a lazy, lazy man.

VERDICT:  5/10 - Meh  (25% of this boxed set is pretty good background music, 25% is Handel's Messiah, and the other 50% is nothing but shitty music from your grandma's church.)

- SHELVED -