Another day, another random Christmas LP from the stacks of yesteryear. . .
Album Title: Firestone Presents - Your Favorite Christmas Carols
Album Artist: Julie Andrews
So, just to be up front with everyone here, I don't have a damn thing to say against Julie Andrews. She's Mary frickin' Poppins, and we're all gonna show that lady some respect around these parts.
Now this bad boy I believe I got when my kid brother, Chris, decided he was too cool for vinyl anymore and dumped a crate of mostly-shitty LPs on me a couple years ago. For whatever reason, he had this one in that crate, and so we're finally getting around to analyzing this latest offering from the good folks at Firestone Auto.
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| Four new tires aaaaaaaand some Andre Previn for ya, pal. |
You know when you buy your Christmas music from the tire store, you're in for a real treat.
This album is yet another example of the mismatching of vocals with the sound of music (see what I did there???) What Firestone has done here (and I know they probably had little to do with the organization and production of this album, but whatever) is take a very soft-voiced, English lady and paired her up with an orchestra that is either a.) too bombastic in volume, or b.) too distracting with weird instrument choices or sudden theme changes.
This album, overall, feels very bloated. As if the producers of this album felt intimidated by Julie Andrews' very presence in the studio and felt it necessary to over-compensate for their insecurities by just assaulting the senses with a constant-barrage of sound or weird changes in tempo, volume, or theme. Like hot damn, fellas - how hard is it for you to just lay down a simple, soft melody for Mary Poppins to sing over? You have the talent in front of a mic, just act frickin' normal for 2 1/2 minutes, five or six times per side, and you're done.
'Jingle Bells' is not a symphony. It does not require five theme changes, four movements, and an interlude. Just play the damn song, guys.
Take 'Joy to the World' as another example. Now that's a ridiculously difficult song to get wrong, folks - it's a yuletide banger, and it's one of those songs that when it comes on, you're like, 'Oh hell yes, I love this one.' Even with this sure-fire title on the track list, this arranger still manages to bungle it. Horns are too loud, timpani are thundering everywhere, and it just feels like they have every volume knob cranked up to 11. The male chorus overpowering Ms. Andrews at every turn sounds like a regiment of drunken, Russian hussars singing in a beer hall after slaughtering peasants on the steppes.
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| These are the assholes, folks. |
Some of the slower songs - like 'O, Little Town of Bethlehem' or 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen'- feel as if they had initially been planned as twelve-minutes of orchestral arrangement but then were diced up on the editing floor because the arrangers realized they only had a frickin' paragraph and a half of lyrics to go with it. There's random harpsichord solos - yes, harpsichords - interspersed among the sweeping string sections so the entire thing feels like a dated musical piece Disney produced for an after school educational program.
You can't make this shit up, folks.
Poor Ms. Andrews is featured on, like, 20% of this album. The other 80% percent is made up of instrumental arrangements that try way too damn hard to be bold, or overly-sentimental, or God knows what else.
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| Umm. . . . no, it wasn't. |
Now, on occasion, the music and Andrews do match up into something that could be considered a cohesive musical pairing. It happens on a couple songs, scattered across both sides of this moldy Firestone offering.
And when that does happen, dear readers, this is tolerable background music - stuff you could put on a 'Classic Christmas' playlist, filled with music from the '40s, '50s and '60s. Obviously not something you'd listen to all the time, but still. Tolerable.
VERDICT: 5/10 - Meh (A reputable singer is drowned out by overly-ambitious orchestral accompaniments. Wacky antics - and harpsichords - ensue.)
- SHELVED -
- Brian
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