Ep. CXXXII: 'Christmas' - Kenny Rogers

Kenny Rogers should've known when to fold 'em on this one. . .

Album Title:  Christmas:

Album Artist:  Kenny Rogers

If you came here expecting an album that sounds like 'The Gambler,' but instead of a guy dying on a train it's, you know, Christmas, then I have some really bad news for you, folks.

This isn't a country Christmas album in the slightest. If you didn't know Kenny Rogers' discography you'd be forgiven for not identifying him as a celebrated country star, based on this release. While there are a couple songs that hint at 'country' more than your typical Christmas album - 'Kentucky Homemade Christmas,' namely - this feels too corporate for authenticity. Like when you see a millionaire from the city wearing cowboy boots because they happen to be vacationing somewhere trendy out west.

' The f*** outta here with that crap, poser.

'Corporate' is a good word for this album, to tell you the truth - the whole thing just smacks of having money thrown at it. The production and mixing of this album is top-notch, which isn't surprising considering Kenny Rogers was a pretty big deal back in the day. This album was released in 1980 - the year I was born - at the height of that late '70s to mid-80's era when music was super polished and pain-stakingly produced (see: Yacht Rock) 

I 100% believe that every, last studio musician who performed on this album was wearing a ponytail.

They have full string sections on many of these songs, which are all arranged competently and, in most cases, are familiar Holiday songs. That's a check in the 'assets' column for Kenny, because a lot of these Holiday albums done by contemporary singers load the track lists with bullshit no one's ever heard of (or wants to hear.) While there are a few originals on here, they're 'meh' as far as Christmas songs go, there's nothing on this album that's too painful to listen to.

So having powered through both sides of this LP, this music gives serious '1980s Department Store' vibes. I've mentioned this before on a prior post, but music like this used to be used during the Holidays by chain stores because there's a science to playing music in stores (I know this because I majored in Advertising and Marketing in college.) If the music is too fast, people will move faster through the store and feel 'rushed.' If it's too slow, people will get bored and not feel motivated enough to shop more, and may spend less money than they otherwise would. You want relaxing music, but not to the point where folks are getting catatonic. 

Kenny Rogers' Christmas album fits the bill. It's sappy orchestral music, which doesn't try to hide it's attempts at tugging at one's heart strings with the repeated string swells, track after track, probably crackled across department store speakers throughout the country for years. And I'm sure a lot of folks loved it, too; this album would've been gobbled up by those country music fans who wanted to listen to some 'slick' Christmas music for a change. Kinda like when a lady who lives in a run-down trailer decides to use a credit card to splurge on a $600 purse so she can feel like a Kardashian. 

I'm disappointed there wasn't more country on this album, but, considering the year/era it was produced, I'm not surprised. Raw talent softens with age, money and success, and it's way easier to just let the money do the talking. I added that 'Kentucky' track on to my Christmas 4 (Country) Amazon Music playlist (the only song that's half-way decent and sounds like 'country' Kenny Rogers), but I'm totally fine with never listening to the other nine songs ever again.

I wish this would have been a Kenny Loggins Christmas album instead, that would have been cool. I love me some Yacht Rock. Does Kenny Loggins even have a Christmas album? I'd imagine he would.

I should look into this. . .

VERDICT:  5/10 - Meh (Early '80s corporate execs have Kenny Rogers check his 'country' persona at the door for a sappy, sleek, and ultimately boring Christmas album. It gets one pity point for a decent song on Side A, otherwise this would be a solid '4.')

- SHELVED-

- Brian

Ep. LX: 'Christmas with Tammy' - Tammy Wynette

 It's time to kick some Yuletide ass, America. . .

Album Title:  Christmas with Tammy

Album Artist:  Tammy Wynette

Any of you guys remember the Transformers?  You probably do, it was a pretty big kid's show back in the early/mid-'80s:  a Saturday morning cartoon about robots from space that 'transform' into various human vehicles, like semi-trucks, fighter jets, and even cassette playing boom-boxes.  Along with G.I. Joe, Thundercats, and He-Man, it defined a generation of young boys, who collected it's action figures like they were holy relics.

I, personally, never got into Transformers as much as some of my friends did growing up - I never got into the whole 'robot/vehicle' thing, as I was more of a sword-wielding hero type, myself - but I could very much acknowledge their level of sheer awesomeness.  So could many television executives, for that matter, since in the wake of Tranformers' success in the TV, toy, and other merchandising industries, a horde of cheap, knock-offs began to invade the TV airwaves and toy aisles.

Laaaaaaaaaame.

Most notorious of these much, much lamer imposters was Hannah Barbara's Go-Bots.  The animation was shittier, the toys were lamer, and the whole thing came across as a poorly-concealed marketing ploy to sell cheap, Asian-made toys.

Kids who played with Go-Bots instead of Transformers were frowned upon in Elementary School society:  one didn't want to associate with one of those kids.

She looks like a math teacher who enjoys giving out detentions.

So why am I bringing all of this up, you may ask?  Well folks, Tammy Wynette - the country singer that's today's artist on the turntable, is the Go-Bot to Loretta Lynn's much more badass Transformer.

She basically plagiarized Loretta's country singing playbook:  she sings the same, the album sounds the same, the song choices are very similar, etc.  Only, in Tammy, you get an older, sleepier, more ho-hum Loretta.  This album is like chloroform - there's none of the former's spunk and sass to balance out all the more retrospective or quieter numbers on this album, and, as such, the whole album sounds like a woman pushing forty, falling asleep on the couch while drinking wine and watching Netflix.

You know, like my wife does.

This albums is boring, and Tammy needs to just stick with standing by her man and leave the Holiday music business to the Transformers.

Not only is Tammy a horrible Christmas album artist, she's also a bad parent:  who has new kids into their forties?  That's how you make people with Downs Syndrome , Tammy.

VERDICT:  4/10 - Borophyll (A much sleepier, older, and more boring version of Loretta Lynn wants to sing you a few Christmas songs.  NEVER pick the Go-Bots over the Transformers, folks.)

- SHELVED -

Ep. LVII: 'Christmas with Slim Whitman'

Time for another round of festive turntablin', America . . .

Album Title:  Christmas with

Album Artist:  Slim Whitman

Typical Christmas selection, here.

So, not going to lie, I have no idea who this guy is.  Before I go into this, I just wanna ask, who the hell names their baby 'Slim?'  And, if it's a self-imposed monicker, why 'Slim'?  Was he rail-thin growing up, and people made fun of him for it, or was it the polar opposite - was he a fat kid and people called him 'Slim' as a way of making fun of him?

Or, most likely, did he just move to Nashville, have difficulty booking gigs as a mediocre country musician who sounded just like hundreds of others trying to break into the business, and changed his name from 'Ottis' to 'Slim' in order to book the occasional dive-bar gig?

I'm going with the last one.

Anyway, as we've seen before time and time again in this here Record Odyssey of mine, I got suckered into picking this up by the cover art alone.  There's such a sleazy vibe to this Christmas album I couldn't not drop $1 on this one (which, if memory serves correct, was picked up at Radio Wasteland about a month ago.)  One glance at Slim on the front of this cover and you know what's about to go down.

You're about to be drugged and raped.

Just look at this guy and his decor and tell me I'm wrong, folks.

I might not know who this guy was when I read his name on the album cover, but I knew who he was when I saw this picture.  Slim lives in a gawdy ranch house, filled with shag carpet and gold-colored everything, somewhere down in Florida like Sarasota, or maybe out in Texas.  He drives a pastel-colored cadillac and all his attendants where bolo ties and alligator skin boots.

Slim acts like a mix between a cowboy and a princess, and walks about his mini-mansion (probably not a legit mansion, because I've never heard of this guy before) in slippers and a silk smoking jacket (like the one you see in the pics.)  Across his walls are his records and awards - hell, maybe he has a gold record for a random single up there somewhere, you never know - and pictures of him with more famous people who are more household names.  He has animal heads on his walls, too, but he didn't shoot them - he just thought they added to the decor that proves his country music-ness.

You CAN'T resist the Slim. . .

Now, let's say your a young woman and get invited back to Slim's ranch house after some award show or variety TV special or whatever.  Let us further say that it's around the Holiday season.  Slim is just the sort of guy that would put this very album - his own album - on the Hi-Fi, as he cha-chas across his living room shag carpeting to make you a Christmas cocktail.

Little do you know, he's about to give you the Bill Cosby treatment:  there's some serious shit he's just dropped into your drink.

As you start to sip on your cocktail, and Slim flashes you the same, dirty-as-f*** car salesman smile that he's flashing you on this album cover, you start to feel drowsy and a little out of sorts.  At first, you assume it's the Vaseline-slathered sound production of this snooze-fest of an album that's putting you to sleep:  God knows this record sounds just like every other country singer's lame attempt at the classic Holiday Crooner approach to making a Christmas album.  Like when Glenn Campbell tries to be Frank Sinatra. . . except when Slim does it, it just sounds creepy, as if he's about to put something in your drink.

And that's when it hits you, Young Missy:  you're about to be date-raped by Slim Whitman.

Happy Holidays!

VERDICT:  4/10 - Borophyll (Bad things will happen to you if you fall asleep to this album. . . and you will fall asleep while listening to this album.)

- SHELVED -

Ep. L: ' A Very Merry Christmas: Western and Country Style' - The McCoy Family

 Alright, time for another session of Holiday snobbery. . .

Album Title:  A Very Merry Christmas: Western and Country Style

Album Artist:  The McCoy Family

You know, at first, I couldn't really put my finger on what was rubbing me the wrong way about this album.  I snatched it up at a thrift store about a month ago, saw 'Country Western' and 'Christmas' across the front, and thought, "well shit, that's a no-brainer right there."

Not so fast, November Brian.

Yours Truly seriously needs to start reading the fine print when it comes to some of these Holiday albums - like a jackass, I just kinda snatched it up after reading the cover and checking the LP's surface (for glossiness, scratches, scuffs, etc.)  Shame on me, then, because this album is a lie.

This isn't a Country/Western collection at all:  these are mainstream studio musicians, singing with forced 'country' accents, adding a couple different musical instruments that sound 'honky tonky' into their usual arrangements, and trying to pass it off as the Real Deal.

(The first indicator that this was a blatant imposter would have been the phrase 'Western and Country' - everybody knows it's called Country and Western, or, more commonly, Country/Western.'

This is a pre-meditated farce, pandering to those who like that style of music.  And I'm offended.

I mean, c'mon - how hard would it have been for the producers of this collection to go out and hire some authentic country musicians?  Hell, if they didn't want to roll out the big bucks for the Johnny Cashes, Loretta Lynns, and George Joneses of the world, they could've at least stacked this album with a bunch of fourth-tier acts (like we previously saw with this lil' gem, if you'll be so good to remember.)  And if that didn't work, they could've scouted out a random small town act at a state fair or barn dance.

But no.

No, these producers didn't want to mess around with any of that.  Some higher-ups were probably sitting around a boardroom, strategizing about how to make a quick buck off of a Holiday album release on the cheap, and one of them said something along the lines of, "why don't we just use our in-house guys and cut the record for nothing?"

"Our boys aren't a country act, Jim.  They recorded 'Hang On Sloopy,' that ain't 'country.'"

"Well Jesus, Steve, just buy a couple a' banjoes and have 'em sing with Dixie accents or something.  I mean, if all them slack-jawed idiots down South can do it, how hard could it be?"

"You gotta point there, Jim.  I like the cut of your jib."

. . . and so on and so forth.

So, in conclusion, this album is a lie, and, while not horrible in any sense, it's overly-polished arrangements, plastic sensibility, and lack of authenticity drives it down into the realm of nearly unforgivable.

Shame on you, Steve and Jim.  Shame on you both.

VERDICT:  4/10 - Borophyll (This is what happens when the corporate world thinks it can music.)

- SHELVED -

Ep. XXXIX: 'Country Christmas' - Loretta Lynn, Various Artists

 Hi fellas.

Who's ready for more Holiday jammitude?  Let's see what we got on the ol' docket today. . .

Album Title:  Country Christmas with Loretta Lynn and Friends

Album Artist:  Loretta Lynn, Various Artists

I'm not going to lie to you folks:  I love me some old school Honky Tonk.  Don't ask me how or why, I certainly didn't grow up around that stuff - I was raised on Classic Rock and Jim Henson.  Nevertheless, I'd place old Country/Western music (50s - 70s) among my favorite genres.  Johnny Cash is one of my top-five favorite artists, and there's a score of other old country singers that I absolutely love:  Hank Williams, Roger Miller, Waylon Jennings, and even this lil' gal right here, Loretta Lynn.  

Some super shitty, '70s-era Photoshop skills on display here.  Could they really not afford to photograph Loretta standing in front of this window?

I bought this album at the Salvation Army during the same visit I bought the two previously-reviewed turds, along with about seven other Holiday records I hope to review in the coming weeks.  I read 'Loretta Lynn. . .' on the cover and said, "Hell, I know exactly what I'm getting here."  I mean, she's one of those artists who always delivers to meet your expectations.  She's like a female, country version of Chuck Berry:  you only need to say her name and you know exactly what a song by her would sound like.

And for the most part, on this album, that rationale is pretty accurate.  

Side A of this album is all Loretta, with the B Side being split up between various old country singers (more on them later.)  Right out of the gate, Loretta kicks off into her usual sassy-voiced Honky Tonk girl swagger, and the tune works.  I'm pretty sure it's an original, and it's a solid Christmas jam.  If the entire A Side of this album followed this opening track's lead, this would be a pretty decent little Christmas album.

But it doesn't.

"Away in a Manger" comes up next, and Loretta is no longer the hands-on-her-hips, "nobody takes my man" singer we all know and love.  Instead, she sings the whole song in this creepy, sloppy whisper, where she tries and vibratos but it instead comes out as a drunken warble.  Over the years I've heard Loretta, in many of her songs, putting her foot down with a drunken fool of a husband, or the like.  Here, though, it turns out Loretta is the drunk, and she sings like she's trying to sneak in through her kitchen at 3am without waking the rest of her family up.

The lack of 'quality control,' if you will, is pretty jarring.

From Our Home to Yours.  Par for the course.

Side B is a fourth-tier offering of "hey remember that one song?" -artists from the late 60s/early 70s -era of Country Music.  That one guy that had that one song that was all the rage for a couple months back in '72?  Yeah, he has a song on Side B.  So's the guy that opened for him when they toured State Fairs that summer.  I could make more jokes along these lines, but I think you get the point.

As far as good ol' Country Christmas-type albums go, this isn't bad.  But there's a hell of a lot better ones out there, and my turntable is a pretty exclusive club these days.

VERDICT:  6/10 - Decent (All in all, it's not a horrible album, per se, but it had potential to be a hell of a lot better.)

- SHELVED -

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. 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. 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 -

Ep. XXIII: 'A Christmas Card' - The Statler Brothers

 Grab your bible, your whiskey and your fanciest of Christmas sweaters, folks:  it's time for a good ol' fashioned Yuletide Hootenanny. . .

Album Title:  A Christmas Card

Album Artist:  The Statler Brothers

I love old Country and Honky Tonk, guys.  I love the holy heck out of it.

Not really a genre I got into as a high-schooler, mind you, or even the majority of college, for that matter.  Rather, it was through playing old country songs as I taught myself guitar my senior year of college - and having a few good ol' boys as roommates who listened to nothing but country - that made me appreciate it.  Now, don't get me wrong, I despise nearly all country that's emerged since the mid-70s, but that old stuff?  The stuff my grandfathers listened to, that reeks of whiskey, Jesus, cowboys, and low-down, no-good women?  That's my jam, folks.

And the Statler Brothers fall into this category.

I was pretty stoked to find it at a thrift store for a mere 99 cents, I can tell you that much (though I own this album on CD already, so there were no shockers here.)  A lot of these songs are well-known standards, especially on country stations, and I'm sure you've heard most of them already.  There's no real weak tracks on this album to speak of, besides the obvious 'spoken word' crap that appears on so many country-ish Christmas albums from the '60s and '70s.  Those old country singers couldn't get enough of that 'from our house to yours' bullshit:

Seriously, guys. . .

Cheesy, Holiday well-wishing aside, if there's one thing holding this record down - and I'm nit-picking here, because I do like this album -  it's that the Statler Brothers never really 'let their hair down.'  When they sing, they sound exactly as they should:  like four old country western musicians singing.  Consequently, anything they sing automatically sounds sentimental, grizzled, and solemn.  I wouldn't say depressing, per se, but it's not really the sort of music that makes you want to spring out of bed in the morning and run a 5K or anything.

LOOK OUT, FELLAS - THERE'S A WOLF CHASIN' YA

(Not that there's any Christmas song - or any song, for that matter - in existence that could make me want to do that.)

Anyway, this is an all-around solid Holiday album if you like old timey Country Western music.  If you don't, skip this and don't look back.  I love the Statler Brothers, but they're definitely pigeon-holed into their genre.  This album works amazingly well if you find yourself thinking about years past on a long, December car ride through the country.

For hosting a lively Christmas party?  Probably not.

VERDICT:  8/10 - Awesome  (A solid old country western record that works well during those rare, quiet, contemplative moments that pop up throughout the Holiday season)

- REMAINS IN CIRCULATION -