The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. III

Alright, here we go again. . .

Album Title:  Christmas with

Album Artist:  Chet Atkins

Mr. Chet Atkins, ladies and gentlemen.  Gotta tell ya, I was looking forward to this one.  I love old country and rock and roll, and this dude walks among some of that era's greatest.

*hiccup*

 Unfortunately, his Christmas album sucks.

Weird how that works, isn't it?  You take an artist whom you like, a collection of renowned Holiday favorites, and whip up an album that. . . well. . . makes you want to blow your brains out.  Super disappointing.

Chet Atkins is at his best when he's boogying with that hollow-body of his, but on this album his guitar-work does this bizarre, drunken tip-toe thing through the Christmas standards.  It's like him and the guitar went out for a night on the town, and the guitar - who had recently broken up with his girlfriend - got all loaded and ended up going home with a blown out tube amp.  Who was really a stripper.  Addicted to Meth.  The next morning, back in the Studio, the guitar trembled uncomfortably as it tried to record even the simplest of holiday carols, in a cold sweat, trying not to vomit all over the sheet music.

Way to ruin Christmas, guitar.

I'd rate this a 3, but it gets an additional point on the scale for the campy 'from our house to yours'-ish message about Chet Atkins and the Holidays.  Check it out:

Aww. . . thanks, People That Never Met Me.  And are probably all dead by now.

To top it off, the jacket's falling apart.  Thanks, Chet.

VERDICT:  4/10 - Borophyll 

- SHELVED -

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. II

Alright, I've got another record today for ya - Remembering Christmas with the Big Bands (RCA, 1981.)  Johnny Mathis is no longer with us, having been 'shelved' in the last Episode, and now sits alongside my non-Christmas albums for the remainder of the Holiday Season.  In shame.

Without further ado, here we go. . .

Album Title:  Remembering Christmas with the Big Bands

Album Artist:  Various Artists

Alright all you zoot suit daddies, let's pretend it's the Summer of 1998 and get some swingin' Yule goin' on in here. . .

Thanks, Granny.

No idea where this one came from, but if I had to put money on it, I'd probably wager it came from my Dad's mom, Granny Hough.  My reasoning for this?  A solitary '1981,' scrawled in her trademark calligraphy, right on the front cover of the outer record sleeve.

Only a Hough, with their infamous OCD, would deem it necessary to scrawl the date of an album right across the front cover (despite the fact that the date can easily be found on the back cover, along with the usual record company copyright information.)

Anyway.

This one isn't bad - good sound quality for the record itself, the outer sleeve is in VG condition (not that I have an audiophile's super-anal rating scale to heart or anything.)  This album is exactly what you would come to expect from a compilation of Big Bands doing an assortment of Christmas standards.  Hopping horn sections, snappy rhythm sections - not too bad at all. When vocalists come on - as they do with Big Band numbers, about a minute or so into the song - they're recorded way too loud, as it usually the case with most Big Band recordings.

I have really nothing to complain about - Glenn Miller, Sammy Kaye, Fats Waller. . . what's not to like?  Well, as a Christmas album, it's a little too much on the 'jazz' side for my tastes.  If I'm in the mood for swinging band jazz, these are the guys I look for, no doubt about it.  They're the best in the business.  That being said, I think as a Christmas album the melodies of familiar Holiday tunes gets drowned out in that Big Band swing.  The variations on these tunes don't stay as centric to the normal arrangements, which forces you to sometimes work at finding out what, exactly, you're listening to.

And I hate work, America.

VERDICT:  6/10 - Decent (good jazz. . . just maybe not for Christmas.)

- SHELVED -

- 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