The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. XIX

So it's that time of year again, gang:  Holiday Preseason.

The Houghs, as you know, kick off Holiday Preseason the weekend before Thanksgiving.  I'll spare you the explanation for this, because honestly I feel like every year I have to go into this at some point in the Holiday season.  Long story short, by this point in time, our outdoor Christmas lights have been hung up (but not turned on)), most our holiday shopping has been taken care of (thanks, Amazon), and we're finally to the point where we're pulling out totes of our Christmas decorations in order to Griswald the holy bejesus out of our house.

Yes, by the Sunday before Thanksgiving (also known as today), everything is set up for Christmas except our Christmas Tree (which we throw up the day after Thanksgiving.)

And all that is left, dear readers, is the ritualistic audio-scrutinization of my ever-expanding collection of Christmas Records.

Last year, I shared this quasi-OCD, holiday pastime of mine with all of you, and over the course of a month we, together, took a close look at about twenty or so LPs from my Christmas collection.  Alas, we ran out of time to review everything in my collection, and since then I've also purchased about a dozen more holiday-themed records, so our task is far from over.

So, with that being said, here we f***ing go again. . .

Album Title:  The Sounds of Christmas

Album Artist:  The Three Suns

I should point out, before I get into this too far, that I've spent the last four months frequenting a thrift store conveniently located right across the street from the school I work at.  Single or double LPs sell for 59 cents, and their boxed sets sell for $1.99, regardless of how many records are in that set.

Needless to say my collection has grown substantially since the beginning of the school year.

The reason I bring this up is because many of the albums I'll be reviewing this year come from this thrift store, and are easy to spot by the '.59' price sticker on the front of the album sleeve.  Such as this one:

When the needle first dropped on this one, nothing at all seemed out of the ordinary.  Your usual mid-60s, background instrumental:  quirky organs, sound levels all over the damn place.  Everything sounding more 'churchy' than it probably should.  Nothing awesome, but nothing noteworthy either, to be sure.

Then came the instrument switch-up.  Then another.  Then another.

Now, I don't mind it when random instruments come kicking in through the front door on a track; a great example of how to do it right is on the Rolling Stones' 'Rip This Joint,' when a sax solo comes out of the frickin' blue and feels like the second coming of Jesus.

Anyone ever see Wicker Man?

This?  Not so much.

What we have here sounds a lot like three dudes on amphetamines, locked in a large room with a shitload of instruments, along with one, unfortunate sober guy who's being paid to play certain Christmas songs and keep this disaster of a Christmas album chugging along.  While Sober Guy sighs and diligently plays his piano the other three guys scramble about the room, picking up instruments, plays them for a few measures, tossing them aside, and snatching up another one.  And repeat.

A harpsichord solo followed immediately by a xylophone solo, followed by a tuba solo, followed by an accordion solo?  It's a bit much.

Even for me.

VERDICT:  4/10 - Borophyll  (Make up your mind, fellas.)

- SHELVED -

The Great Record Purge 2016

Alayna gets an education in vinyl collecting (these are ones I'm dumping.)

Hi, gang.

You all remember how I'm sort of obsessed with records, right?  I'm sure I've mentioned that before.  Anyway, lately Kris and I have been trying to de-clutter our house somewhat, and I figured it was high time to trim some of the fat in my massive collection.  Kris is opposed to me buying additional shelving for my records, so any and all space I can find is valuable indeed.  And if I ever want to buy new records - which is a given, considering it's a passion of mine - I need to make some serious room.

Some of my 'mood music' section.  Lots of ethnic music, historical pieces, instrumentals, and spoken word.  Not something you'd go out of your way to buy, but trust me - this section comes in handy, and works awesomely well as 'background music.'

Rock. And. Roll.  This is by far the biggest selection in my collection.

More Rock (arranged in alphabetical, by artist), into Folk.

This wasn't the first time I've purged my record collection, mind you:  back in May of 2015, I got rid of an entire two boxes of records prior to moving back to Michigan - maybe 100 records or so.  That was fairly easy, I owned more garbage than I realized (embarrassingly so.)  Now, however, I was hoping to dump four boxes worth - to get rid of albums that had pops and hisses (I had gotten rid of my scratched LPs years ago), albums that I never listened to, or only owned because I like the artist and not necessarily the album itself, etc.

Country, Western, Tijuana Jazz, and Country Gospel

It sounds easier than it is, people.  It's like parting with one's children.

This process took a week or two, but in the end I axed my three and a half boxes worth - probably 150-175 albums, total.  It was painful, but it had to be done:  eventually, the space that I freed up in my shelves will be replaced with new albums purchased off Amazon, so there was incentive for such purging.  I still had a lot of nonsense in my collection that was overlooked last year, so some of it went fairly easy.

Soundtracks, instrumentals, jazz, big band, etc.

For example, I had a lot of John Denver and Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass.  While John Denver has a few decent songs, he's not one of my favorites.  Do I need his entire discography (because I owned it, for some reason.)  No, I do not.  I'll keep his greatest hits, his Christmas album with The Muppets (duh.)  Do I need eight, individual Herb Alpert albums when I have a 5-LP boxed set of all his best music, considering I rarely listen to him?  No, I do not - they're all duplicates and filler.

This is what I'm talking about, America.  Trimming the fat.  Trimming the fat, and making room for new additions.

Clearing out space.  Here's some classical and Christmas music. . .

Some of this purge's casualties. . .

Bye bye, dear John Denver. . .

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. I

Hi gang.

So, it occurred to me, as we prepare to kick off the Holiday Season, that Yours Truly hasn't shared with you before one of my all-time, favorite Holiday traditions. . .

The systematic audio-scrutinization of every, last one of my Christmas Records.

Every year, during the week of Thanksgiving, I pull out all of my Holiday records from their designated spot on my record shelving, and place them in random order right next to my turntable.  For the next five or six weeks, they are the only records I allow to grace my turntable - all of my other records have to sit in a Yuletide Time-Out until January 2nd.  I play every, last Christmas album I own - regardless of how God-awful horrible it is - appreciating the awesome (or terrible) music, LP artwork, and - more often than not - the inspirational Christmas message scrawled across the back of the record cover.

Then, if the record proves itself worthy, it remains next to the turntable to be played later on in the season (usually multiple times.)  If not, back on the shelf it goes, lucky to have been played at all.

Now, just so you know, most of my Christmas albums were either a.) inherited from grandparents, b.) picked up at thrift stores for 99 cents, or, most commonly, c.) crammed in amongst one of my many garage-sale hauls.  See, down in Florida, I would frequently score stacks of vinyl records in Hunter's Creek community garage sales.  Generally something like $10 for about fifty or sixty records or so.  Lots of John Denver, lots of Winger, lots of Charley Pride, lots of Johnny Mathis.  After chucking the scratched records, the records I didn't want, and the doubles I already owned, I'd have a solid twenty or so records to augment my ever-expanding record collection.  

Usually, I'd keep the Christmas stuff (so long as it wasn't scratched to shit), because - no matter how terrible it might be - the songs are familiar, and each LP gives the daily Holiday listening session a unique (and often hilariously bad) music experience. 

Now, I always kick off this particular tradition of mine during the Thanksgiving week, as back when I was a teacher in Florida I had a full-week off of work, and that was technically our start to the Holiday Season.  With that in mind, today - Sunday, November 22nd - marks the beginning of this year's Great Christmas Record Odyssey.

Let's do this. . .

Album Title:  Merry Christmas

Album Artist:  Johnny Mathis

Just so you know, like many of my other Holiday records, I did not walk into a record store and pick this up on purpose.  Definitely not.  Most of the songs here are standard-issue fare, belted out (likely) in a pill-induced, mellow croon guaranteed to put you to sleep.  Some may disagree with me, but to me this is music my grandparents likely made out to back in the '50s.  While wearing turtlenecks and drinking egg nog at 3pm on a Tuesday.  In fact, they probably fell asleep making out to this album, which is. . . well, weird.

Now let's take a closer look at this album cover:

Clearly, Mr. Mathis has just been skiing.  No big deal, right?  Well, he's sitting in the snow in frickin' slacks. . . which, to me, implies that he just fell on his ass.  Why else would you willingly sit down in the snow in your church pants?  And why the hell would you be smiling about it?  I was on the ski team in high school, and I never smiled after falling - it hurt like hell.  

In addition, I don't see goggles or a hat, either, which, to me, means one of two things:  1.) he's just so damn good at skiing that he doesn't need them (which makes me wonder why he's wasting his time recording Christmas albums that put grandparents to sleep), or 2.) he's so doped up on those sleepy music-inducing pills that he forget the bulk of his ski-ware at home.  Supporting this second point is the fact that, if you look closely, you'll see that he's propping himself up by his left arm. . . with his BARE HAND buried in the snow.  Probably 'cause he can't feel his extremities.

The moral of the story, kids?

Don't do drugs. 

VERDICT:  5/10 - Meh (points for ridiculously hilarious album artwork)

- SHELVED -

- Brian