The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. X

Album Title:  The Enchantment of Christmas

Album Artist:  Various Artists

This album - this one right here - this surprised me.

You'd think, based on the cheeseball photograph of a barn/covered bridge/outhouse surrounded by a snow-covered woods, that this album would be just another Christmas throwaway like some of the other crap I've been reviewing lately (you hearin' me, Tennessee Ernie Ford?).  Operatic male singing, women warbling over brass-heavy instrumental songs that remind you of a boring church service, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir (seriously), etc.

But this compilation actually isn't bad.  Why, it's kinda good, even.

The line-up helps.  Guy Lombardo's back, along with the Ames Brothers, Bing, Satchmo, Judy Garland, Sammy Kaye, and a handful of other tried-and-trues that deliver on this dated-but-still-good Christmas compilation.  It's the balls-iness of the arrangements that set this album above the rest of the '50s/60s crooner comps I've reviewed in previous episodes:  a swinging horn section here, an adjusted time signature there, instrument solos, and, frankly, better singing.

Yuletide inspirationals, anyone?

I don't care how good of a singer you are, if what you're singing DOES NOT SEEM TO FIT THE MUSIC OF THE SONG YOU ARE SINGING, you are going to sound like complete crap.  Sorry, that's just how it is.  That's Music 101, Great Songs of Christmas Volumes from Columbia Records - do your frickin' homework.

Now, will this go down as one of my personal Holiday favorites?  No, probably not.  But is it a good supplemental album that does the '50s/'60s crooning thing right, while so many other albums I've already reviewed have done it wrong?  Yes.

And for that, dear readers, this lil' guy earned himself a spot in the Holiday Circulation Shelf.

Congratulations, guy.

VERDICT:  7/10 - Pretty Rad ('50s holiday crooning done right.  Finally.)

- REMAINS IN CIRCULATION -

- Brian

Album Title:  Christmas Carols

Album Artist:  The Winston Singers

It's 1964, okay/All across the U.S.A.

First of all, before we get started, I'd like to bring your attention to the date scrawled across the front cover.  A small, modest '1964,' written across an ugly, Victorian housewife.  In calligraphy.

Looks like I inherited this from good ol' Granny Hough.

Anyway, this album is what one might call a 'vocal album.'  Simply put, this album is carried by the singing, not so much the music.  Maybe there's one or two instruments in the background:  on this album, that's usually a stand-up bass (doing a lazy walk so minimal you'd think he's backing up a stand-up comedian instead of a group of singers) and a nautical-sounding accordion.

Beltin' out the jamz. . .

Now, to be fair, the vocalists here sound fine - I'm sure they sound great singing at their local church.   It took me awhile to put my finger on it, but I think what's irritating about this vocalist album is the fact that there's clearly only six or seven people in this choir, and that doesn't seem right to me.  If I want a vocalist album, I want the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, or chanting medieval monks.  Maybe a collection of chain-gang prisoners in the rural South of the 1920s.  Any of those, really.  Not so much what we have here:  this arrangement reminds me a lot of a group of people sitting around a living room singing Christmas carols around a roaring fire.

If that's your thing, cool.  Good luck with that.  It just isn't mine.

That being said, let's address the elephant in the room for a sec, shall we:  THESE CREEPY, F***ING CAROLING DOLLS:

AAAAAAGGGHHHHH

What designer in their right mind approved this for an album cover (and wasn't being 'ironic'. . . 'cause I can totally see this as an indie or punk band's front cover)?

Come to think of it, I don't know at whom I'm more appalled - the craftsman who sculpted these dolls (thanks for ruining my sleep for the next few months, guy), the photographer who took the pictures (nice creepy lighting, dude), the graphic artist who laid out the imagery and letters (sweet Jesus. . .), or, worst of all, the creative director for the record company who nodded solemnly and said something like, "Looks good, Hank - let's run with it."

You know what. . . the creative director.  Yeah, I'm most appalled at him for this disaster.

I need a drink. . .

VERDICT:  2/10 - Reality TV  (Terrible songs, terrible-er imagery.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian