The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. CXXVI

Man, I hope you guys like doorbells. . .

Album Title:  The Bells of Christmas Morn

Album Artist:  The Schulmerich "Carillon Americana" Bell

I've reviewed my fair share of blase 'Bell & Chimes' Holiday records over the years, as well as the alternative (and slightly better) 'Chimes & Organ.' There's a crap-load of that stuff out there to choose from, it was definitely all the rage back in the '50s considering how much of it you come across in your local thrift store (or record store dollar bin.) 

I assumed, when I first spotted this one, that it would sound similar to the previous records I've reviewed on here; I mean, it has 'bells' on the title, the track listing is similar, the artwork just as tired and lame. On other 'bells'-related albums, one can expect hand bells of varying size, usually performed by a 'band' (for lack of better term) of people ringing different bells at designated times in order to create an easily-discernible Christmas melody. 

Kris' old church downtown has a bell 'team' (or band, whatever), in fact: they line up in a row in front of a cloth-covered table, upon which arrayed out like medieval torture devices are bells of different sizes ('cause the bigger bells make lower-pitched sounds, etc.) They're then conducted by some old bag of a woman who definitely acts as if she's conducting the London Symphony Orchestra, and the results are what you'd expect.

This album, believe it or not, does not sound anything like the previous Bell/Chime/Organ albums I've reviewed in the past.

This album sounds like a doorbell.

The ol' Holiday message on the back of the cover. Don't believe any of it.

I wish I was kidding, but that's like the most accurate way I can possibly describe it. Well, maybe a room filled with multiple doorbells, all simultaneously going off at the same time. Now, you might be thinking to yourself, "Ope, here we go - Brian's over-exaggerating for entertainment's sake again. . ." but I shit you not, America - when I started playing this album on my turntable, both my dogs started to lose their shit in the living room. They thought someone was at our door.

Seriously.

So let's take a step back and analyze the nuts and bolts of this real quick. There's not much to find fault with with a track list of familiar Christmas songs, and the recording quality itself isn't horrible (it's a 70-year-old record, we'll cut it some slack.) The 'attraction' of this album was how they hooked up hundreds and hundreds of tons of cast-metal bells to an electronic organ (not even joking), so that when some asshole named Robert (a so-called 'Carillonneur,' mind you) plays a Christmas song on said keyboard, it strikes all these heavy-ass bells.

Goddamn it, Robert - you frickin' ruined doorbells for me.

With the lighter, higher-pitched bells, this could have been stomached in moderation, but when all you're doing is ringing super loud-ass bells non-stop, it gets old real fast. Like, ten seconds is too much. Robert, bells are accent instruments, used for emphasis or atmosphere (quietly, in the background). Unless you're announcing the hour of the day, calling people to prayer, or alerting people that there's someone at their door, we don't need bells in our day-to-day lives. And we certainly don't need bells this frequently in Christmas music.

Imagine hearing a crash cymbal in a song. Totally great once and awhile, for emphasis purposes.

Now imagine a song where it's nothing but repeated crash cymbals, from start to finish.

That's what this album is like.

VERDICT:  2/10 - Reality TV (Stock up on the Tylenol if you're dead set on listening to this one. You've been warned.)

- SHELVED-

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. LVI

Happy Holidays, Internet.  Time to throw another platter on the turntable and feel the Yule. . .

Album Title:  A Christmas Sound Spectacular

Album Artist:  John Klein

So I couldn't resist picking this one up from Radio Wasteland:  the Santa on the cover totally sold it for me.  I mean, look at him.  Maybe it's the sultry red decor, maybe its the beaded curtain, or perhaps it's Santa's deer-in-headlights, 'it's not what you think' look on his face.  To me, this picture screams 'Santa at the Strip Club.'

Santa's about to get his chestnuts rubbed.

I feel like this cover picture is zoomed in and cropped:  if you were to zoom out, you'd see a topless stripper off to the left, waiting to give Santa a lap dance.  Santa's kicked back in chair, all ready for his holly, jolly lap dance, when all of a sudden the viewer walks in and catches him completely by surprise.

If this isn't what you take away from this cover, there must be something seriously wrong with you.  I can't believe the art department got away from this.

Anyway, pervy cover art aside, this album is a hot mess, from start to finish.  Not so much the song selection and their arrangements, but rather the execution of them.  Have you ever heard the phrase, 'too much of a good thing?'  That's a legit phrase, guys, and one that I feel the need to emphasize here in today's post:  what we have here, folks, is a too much bells and chimes.  Like, a shitload of bells and chimes.

No surprises here.

Now, everybody likes chimes and bells in their Christmas carols.  Jingle bells, church bells, whatever.  It's part of the season, we all get it.  What we have here, from John Klein and company, is an over-abundance of bells.  Like, instead of the bells serving as a subtle accent, they're front and center stage, playing out the lead melodies themselves.  It's too much for the ear to handle.

You wanna know what this sounds like?  It sounds like when you go to a middle school band concert and they have some fat kid in the back, in the percussion section, and he gets to hit the chimes with a mallet during a song.  Since it's not used very often, he's all excited to play the hell out of them, and pounds on those frickin' chimes like a blacksmith working over an anvil.  The crashing bells then reverberate through the gymnasium's shitty acoustics and leaving a permanent ringing in parents' and grandparents' ears that last for weeks.

Christ.

That's exactly what this album sounds like.  If Klein had only dialed it back a bit with the f***ing bells on this one, I feel like this album could be a solid '5' or '6,' but instead I'm leaving this one a '3.'


Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to drive out the ringing in my head with a Goddamn bullet.

VERDICT:  3/10 - Seriously? (S-so. . . m-many. . . BELLS.)

- SHELVED -