Time to get some Q.T in with the Rog, folks. . .
Album Title: The Roger Whittaker Christmas Album
Album Artist: Roger Whittaker
If you've ever spent time in a thrift store digging through crates of moldy vinyl, searching for those usually non-existent rare finds, then you've definitely come across the name 'Roger Whitaker' before. He shares crate space with the likes of Mantovani, Lawrence Welk, The Lettermen, and others of such ilk in just about every Salvation Army and Goodwill I've ever set foot in.
And folks, that's not a good thing. There's a reason why folks dump such records off for a cheap tax write-off (along with soiled and outgrown childrens' clothing and tacky dishware that were found in a deceased grandparent's cupboards): it's straight-up garbage.
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| Someone get this man some Head & Shoulders. . . |
I've come across Roger a handful of times over the years, always on compilations (featuring some of the previously mentioned assholes), and I've never once been impressed by the guy. How this dude managed to sell so many albums in his prime is beyond comprehension. While listening to the opening track on Side 1 of this album, I'm convinced he's trying to be Cat Stevens (kinda almost sounds like him for a hot minute), until the slicked-up 70's production kicks in and the entire track drowns in cheese.
After that opener, the album descends into music that can only be described as Grandparent Easy Listening. The dude's got a baritone voice, for sure, but he can't seem to manage to bring that sense of gravitas to his songs like Elvis, Johnny Cash, Joe Cocker, or other similarly deep-voiced singers can do. Nay, readers, Roger sounds like he's got one corduroy-slacked leg into an afternoon nap. This near-yawning of his warbles along atop dated song arrangements that sound SO Late '70s you can almost picture the pornographic film they were likely inspired by. 
These two factors, while not doing Roger any favors when determining this album's overall rating, could be somewhat overlooked if the son of a bitch would at least have put some familiar Christmas songs on this release. But no, we don't get any familiarity here whatsoever - it's a bunch of oddball weirdness, and honestly it's like some wood-paneled, shag-carpeted, parallel dimension where the only Christmas music that exists is bullshit that no one's ever heard before. All of these previously unheard of Christmas songs are boring and forgettable (hence this album's unavoidable return to the moldy crates of Salvation Army very soon), but a couple of songs on this album are so Goddamn terrible that I have to mention them briefly by name before we go:
Side 1, Track 5. 'Darcy the Dragon.' This Medieval romp sounds like Jethro Tull offered to take on a rock opera based on Disney's 1977 film, Pete's Dragon. Renaissance Faire peasant music gallivants along in the background while an obviously-stoned Roger spins a yarn about a misunderstood dragon being chased out of a village or something by angry peasants, where he ends up in a magical forests and somehow - somehow - discovers the meaning of Christmas. Or something, I don't know - it's only like three minutes minutes into the damn song that they somehow work Christmas into the lyrics. I don't get why this song exists.
Side 1, Track 6. 'The Governor's Dream.' The very next song, equally f***ed up, is some half-spoken word, half-song mini-play about Ancient Rome, wherein Roger plays the part of some Roman Governor who is troubled by. . . the Nativity? An omen? Something to do with Baby Jesus, I'm sure - how else are Romans being associated with Christmas if not by association with Baby Jesus? So Roger acts out this song, speaking instead of singing quite a lot of the time, but then the music kicks in and a loud, boisterous chorus begins to rattle the rafters. What ensues is a full-on shouting match with his backing choir, who continue to sing stuff like, 'Glory, Glory,' etc., and in return he starts barking at them like an angry, old racist yelling at a bunch of black teens to stop using the sidewalk in front of his house. Repeated bellowing of "WHO SINGS, WHO SHOUTS?" from Roger Whittaker is just what the house was missing this Holiday Season, for sure.
At the end of listening to this album, I'm sure my facial expression matched the one on the kid to the far left:
VERDICT: 3/10 - Seriously? (WHO SINGS, WHO SHOUTS???)
- SHELVED -
- Brian
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