Welcome to Christmas in December, 2011! Since 1996, we here at CiD HQ have been dedicated to distributing yearly compilations of nifty holiday tunes, using one doomed media format after another -- first audio cassettes, and now compact discs. So, until I figure out how to mass-produce musical neural implants or whatever insane nonsense the kids are listening to these days, you're stuck with me, 120 mm of polycarbonate plastic, and the ruminations below. (Or, you know, the big ZIP file full of MP3s found to the right.) We hope that this year's little audio holiday fruitcake is free of those weird little green fruits, but obviously, everyone's definition of the audio equivalent of "weird little green fruits" will differ. And anyway, some people like those weird little green fruits. I mean, somebody must, right? At least at one time? Hence their inclusion in what we have come to recognize as the canonical fruitcake? Same here. Think of your CD as a little Island of Misfit Songs. For every song listed below, there is someone out there who will love it. If you're one of those people, why not tell us about it? Misfit songs and mixed metaphors -- that's what makes the season bright, am I right, folks?
1. “Jingle Bells,” The Soulful Strings
My radar first picked up on The Soulful Strings back in 1997, when their version of "Sleigh Ride" (as featured on the "Traditional Jazz Christmas" compilation) quickly became one of my favorite versions of that song (see also: The Ronettes, El Vez, Squirrel Nut Zippers). A collection of studio musicians for the Chess/Cadet blues and R&B labels in Chicago, The Soulful Strings recorded six albums in the 1960s, all of which are now out of print. So we must rely on intrepid thrift-shoppers like this guy, whose narrative of unearthing this album I enjoyed reading because it so closely mirrors my own delight on finding this album on his site. Nothing like a funky backbeat to give new life to a song everybody only thinks they're sick to death of.
2. “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” The Ventures
"Oh, good," I hear you say (and I hear the sarcastic italics too -- don't worry, your subtle wit is not lost on me). "The Ventures. Again. What's next, Phil Spector?" Umm...
3. “Parade of the Wooden Soldiers,” The Crystals
... yes, apparently so. I'll admit, I've pretty nearly fished this pond ("A Christmas Gift for You From Phil Spector") dry at this point. The only cuts from this album I haven't reheated on a CiD so far are the Ronettes' "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus," the two tracks by Bob B. Soxx & The Blue Jeans, and the creepy-in-retrospect Phil Spector monologue set to "Silent Night" at the end. I mentioned in 2009 that, in light of Phil's recent legal trouble (brought on by his recent murdering-people trouble), I'm rechristening this album "A Christmas Gift to You From Hal Blaine" -- and speaking of which, Hal (whose drums have been described as "the Morse Code of the gods") gets quite a little workout at the end of this track.
4. “Silver Bells,” Booker T. & The MG’s
And speaking of great drummers, how about that Al Jackson Jr., huh? Of course, we could also speak of great bassists (Donald "Duck" Dunn), great guitarists (Steve Cropper) and great organists (Booker T. Jones). There is, as you might imagine, quite a lively debate on the Internet about how to properly punctuate the band's name -- complicated by the fact that the band themselves never seem to use the same punctuation twice. Is it "the M period G period S"? "The MG apostrophe S"? Here I've basically thrown up my hands and just reproduced the name as it appears on the cover of this particular album. Anyway, Booker T., et al., didn't come here to punctuate -- they came here to percolate.
5. “Festive Noel,” Alan Moorhouse
Moorhouse (I spelled it wrong on the CD jacket -- sorry, but that's how you know that human beings, with all their charming imperfections, are in charge around here) worked for KPM, a company that provides "library music" (also known as "stock music" or "production music") -- catalogs of songs that are sold for use mostly in TV and movies. So this is not just an ordinary Herb Alpert knockoff; this is what a TV producer would call for if he couldn't afford an actual Herb Alpert song, but wanted that genuine Tijuana Christmas sound. It's nice to hear this normally quite dignified carol being given a few whacks with the ol' pinata stick.
6. “It’s Christmas Time,” Marvin & Johnny
Is Marvin Phillips the second-greatest soul singer named Marvin? If so, would that make him the greatest living soul singer named Marvin? Is Marvin Phillips still living? I hope so. "Johnny" is Emory Perry, who astute readers may notice is not actually named Johnny. In fact, R&B historian Marv Goldberg notes that Marvin "used a bewildering array of singers as 'Johnny' (although none of them was actually named Johnny)." See also: Peaches & Herb, in which Herb Fame has employed six different ladies as "Peaches." Nothing to do with Christmas, or even Marvin & Johnny, really, but I was startled to learn that "Herb" was meant to be pronounced like the name (with the "H" as a voiceless glottal fricative), not like the food plant (silent "H").
7. “Lil’ Drummer Boy,” The Bomboras
Hey, guys! Hope you like echo chambers! Hope you also like homages to Dick Dale, 'cause that's what we've got on our hands here. "Misirlou," this song's most obvious antecedent, was apparently concocted by Dale in an attempt to recreate his memory of his uncle's performance of the song on the oud. Ever notice how many versions of this song don't actually feature the drum very prominently? I mean, there are drums here, obviously, but they're not the main event.
8. “White Christmas,” The Waikikis
The Waikikis had one mission in life: to recreate for music lovers the tropical island paradise of their native land. Unfortunately, their actual native land was Belgium. But that didn't stop The Waikikis from churning out Hawaiian music simulacra, at one point even scoring a modest international hit with "Hawaii Tattoo." Just another example of pop music's sinister colonialism in action -- first Herb Alpert takes over Tijuana, then the Belgians take over Waikiki, and before you know it Paul Simon is taking over South Africa.
9. “Jingle Bells,” The Surfers
I wanted to follow The Waikikis with a Belgian-sounding song played by a bunch of Hawaiians, but I couldn't find any (yet), so you're going to have to settle for a Hawaiian-sounding song played by a bunch of Hawaiians. And this one comes with an extra dose of cognitive dissonance, since a moment's reflection will reveal that residents of Hawaii would have little experience with "dashing through the snow," nor would they find "a one-horse open sleigh" useful in the slightest. We're pretty fond of cognitively dissonant Christmas songs around here, as you've perhaps noticed over the years.
10. “Let It Snow,” Four Piece Suit
Remember the pre-millenial neo-swing revival, catalyzed by the movie "Swingers"? Bunch of sideburned guys in flashy suits and long watch chains trying to make like Cab Calloway? I never fully trusted bands like Big Bad Voodoo Daddy and Cherry Poppin' Daddies (maybe due to my own unresolved Freudian father issues?), but for some reason I had a hard time resisting this number from Four Piece Suit when I heard it. Maybe because it's a conga (dun-dun dun-dun dun-DUN!), and I have fond memories of Saturday morning cartoons featuring conga-related antics.
11. “The Blink Before Christmas,” The Phil Moore Trio
Speaking of Cab Calloway, one might need his "Dictionary of Jive" to make sense out of this take on "A Visit from St. Nicholas" (which, as tiresome pedants like myself never miss an opportunity to explain, is the real title of "'Twas the Night Before Christmas"). Key term: "Sneaky Pete" is, apparently, "a homemade or inferior liquor or wine." There are a surprising number of songs along the "hepcat/jive/be-bop speak version of AVFSN" model, from Babs Gonzales to Edd "Kookie" Byrnes.
12. “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” Ashley Holt
Ashley Holt, artist, writer, world-class crank, and self-described "visionary househusband," lives in Spartanburg, SC, and writes (hilariously) at his own blog, "The Symptoms." He's also responsible for "Thrdgll Chrstms," a spell-check confounding collection of "misinterpretations of your favorite holiday songs." Ashley would like America to know that this song features not only his dog, Petey, as a growling percussionist, but also a "genuine Schoenhut toy piano." I thought Ashley was employing his trademark puckish wit, and was surprised to find out that Schoenhut toy pianos are an actual thing. Ashley did not say whether he used the model with the adorable teddy bear painted on it, but I think we can all assume that he did.
13. “Winter Wonderland,” The Ronnie Kole Trio
This is the kind of song that the phrase "Dig those crazy drums, man" was invented for. But what is it about New Orleans that breeds all of these genius piano players? In a town like, say, Wilkes-Barre or Fond du Lac, Ronnie Kole would be by far the best piano player, but in New Orleans you've already got guys like Professor Longhair, James Booker, Fats Domino, Allen Toussaint, Dr. John, and, yes, even Harry Connick Jr. -- an embarrassment of riches. I'd never even heard of Ronnie Kole until I stumbled across this record. I'm pleased to report that Mr. Kole is a living legend, who's still working today. (Assuming that's the same guy.)
14. “We Wanna See Santa Do the Mambo,” Big John Greer
Not to sound like the grouchy old malcontent I am rapidly becoming, but doesn't it seem like dance crazes have lost a certain je ne sais quoi since the days of the mambo? If this song came out today, it might well be called "We Wanna See Santa Do the Stanky Leg." (Yes, of course it exists.) What on earth is wrong with the mambo? It's a perfectly good dance. Why can't kids today learn the Lindy, or the foxtrot, or the Charleston, instead of ridiculous dances with the word "stanky" in them? And why can't they find pants that fit? (This paragraph brought to you by the spirit of the late Andy Rooney.)
15. “The Christmas Song Cha Cha,” Hugo Winterhalter & His Orchestra
When I was listening to the rough mix of this year's CD, I realized what was missing: I needed an "And His Orchestra" song. It's hard to explain, but it's really its own genre -- the musical personality who claims his very own orchestra. And in many cases, it's not even a full-sized 100-piece orchestra, but the fact that the bandleader calls his busload of reefer-smoking dudes an "orchestra" fixes the music in a very specific locus on the pop culture matrix (do matrices even have loci?) -- early- to mid-twentieth century, when musical consumers still cared about such things, mixed with a healthy dose of good old American delusions of grandeur. Anyway, in went Hugo Winterhalter. True story: The next day, as I was congratulating myself on making such a hip and obscure musical choice, I heard this very song in a Home Depot.
16. “Carol of the Bells,” The Moog Machine
One of the technical advances the CiD project has benefited most from in recent years is the ability to convert vinyl LPs and 45s into digital formats. Or maybe I should say that CiD has benefited from other people's ability to do this, since CiD HQ lacks the necessary equipment. Case in point: "Christmas Becomes Electric," by The Moog Machine, which has long been out of print and unavailable on CD. Luckily, there are Christmas music enthusiasts geekier and more obsessive than us at CiD (check the links in the sidebar for some of them), and now this great album is free to proliferate entirely in ones and zeroes, over an Internet that The Moog Machine could only dream of in 1969.
17. “Dance of the Latke Queens,” Shirim Klezmer Orchestra
(link NSFW)
Hey, it's another orchestra! Here's some more cognitive dissonance for your holiday listening pleasure.
18. “Jingle Rock,” Tommy Lee & The Orbits
A lot of musicians approach "Jingle Bells" as a pro forma exercise, just reciting the words (especially the later verses, what with the "we became upsot" and the "go it while you're young") as if somebody just handed the lyrics to them seconds before they hit "record" in the control room, which may very well have been the case. Tommy Lee (no, not that Tommy Lee) actually displays some comprehension of the lyrics by translating them into a hot-rodding scenario. In other words, he shows some effort -- probably not all that much effort, but some effort nonetheless, and that's what we like to see around here.
19. “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus,” Johnny Clarke
It doesn't sound like Johnny had the official sheet music for "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" in front of him. Maybe he vaguely remembered the song playing once on the radio in the next room, and tried his best to recreate the melody. Maybe he only heard the song described to him by someone else. Or maybe he did have the sheet music in front of him, but couldn't see it through the massive cloud of ganja smoke.
20. “Blue Christmas,” Hasil Adkins
Only Boone County, West Virginia (also home of the White family) could have produced legendary rockabilly psychopath Hasil Adkins, a big influence on bands like The Cramps, Southern Culture on the Skids, and Flat Duo Jets. Hasil joins Johnny Clarke in not being a slave to his source material. Instead, his "Blue Christmas" reminds me of Elvis's "Blue Moon" -- taking the spirit of the original and filtering it through his own keening, pre-verbal pain and longing (and, in Hasil's case, most likely a fifth of vodka). God bless Wikipedia: "He was well known for shrieking certain catchphrases, such as 'hot dogs,' 'I want your head,' 'Gimme that commodity meat,' and 'AaaaaaaaaaaaaHeeeeeeeeeeee-Wooo!!!!'"
21. “You’re The Angel on My Christmas Tree,” Faron Young
It's a tribute to the man who sang "Hello, Walls" that he can take a song extolling the virtues of a lover and how awesome she makes his Christmas and make it sound like a damned American tragedy.
22. “All That I Want,” The Weepies
"Deer might fly, why not? I met you." Excuse me... there must be something in my eye.
23. “Jingle Bells Mambo,” The Frank Petty Trio
Rhino Records has been very good to CiD over the years; one wellspring of material has been "Mambo Santa Mambo," a compilation that came out about a decade ago and now seems to be out of print. Most everything on this album has appeared on a CiD at some point. Worth finding and listening to in its own right, if you can get your hands on a copy, corporeal or digital.
24. “Silent Night,” Klaus Nomi
Whilst composing this song 193 years ago, Franz Xaver Gruber probably did not envision it in the hands of a stone-cold weirdo like Klaus Nomi. But he probably wouldn't have minded. This is from "Za Bakdaz: The Unfinished Opera," which Klaus was working on when he died in 1983. I have no idea what "Za Bakdaz" was supposed to have been about, but it also contains a song called "Valentine's Day," so maybe it was a delightful romp through all of the major holidays, perhaps a remake of the Bing Crosby/Fred Astaire classic "Holiday Inn" -- which, of course, is the movie that introduced "White Christmas." It also included Bing Crosby performing in blackface. Different time, folks, different time.
25. “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing,” The Peanuts Gang
So say we all. Good night, folks! See you next year!
