The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. CXXXVII

Hey, we got any organ fans in the house this evening? If so, prepare yourself for a special treat. . . .

Album Title:  Silent Night: Organ and Chimes Favorites

Album Artist:  William Daly

Ah, another 'chimes' Christmas album. We've had a lot of these over the years, and they vary in the intensity and absurdity of their chimey-ness - sometimes sounding like a boring church service, sometimes sounding like some kinda demonic, carnival sideshow attraction. I spotted this at Radio Wasteland years ago and snatched it up on a whim from their Dollar Bin with zero expectations; based on the album artwork, the fact that this was marked down to the 'discount price' of $1.79 in 1983 (or $5.82 nowadays, which is cheap for a new LP), and the fact its a chimes record, I didn't have high hopes for this one.

Dropping the needle on Side A is pretty much akin to walking into your Grandma's church. Not the one you usually go to, where you kinda know some familiar faces and the lay of the land - you know what kinda music they're gonna play, you know the order of the service, etc. - but your Grandma's church. The kinda church you go to and everything's off and things feel weird. Like, you know Jesus is probably still a big deal and everything, but there's a weird smell in the air from the combination of moldy pew cushions and the 75-and-older crowd (who make up 80% of the thirty-four people in attendance), and you find yourself overcome with a sense of unease. 

The organ work on this album screams 'old people slowly dying in church' more than any other album I've ever reviewed over the course of the last decade or so. And that's saying something, guys. It's not a swirling, circus-esque freakshow organ (we've had that around these parts before), channeling the very fissures of Hell, but instead a slow, warble-y progression to the grave. The arrangements on this piece wouldn't be out of place at a funeral, which might sound weird considering these are Christmas songs and that would usually deter one's mind from going straight there, but. . . here we are. 

It's hard to make up-beat carols sound the exact same as a somber, more religious Christmas song, but William Daly somehow makes it happen. Lots of whole notes to be found here, those are definitely his favorite. Everything comes across in the same time signature, the same level of intensity, and the same volume, as if Will realizes that to take one, musical step out of the norm here would certainly kill (smite?) any or all of the elderly patrons in attendance. It's like some kind of church-y fever dream that you can't escape from.

I never thought in my entire life that I'd ever welcome the sound of chimes in a Christmas song (or any song for that matter), but man - when the occasional chimes do come in to the songs, they're a f***ing blessing. 'Organ and Chimes' is a bit of a stretch for an album title, folks - this should be called 'Organ, feat. Chimes.' They're an accent accompaniment here, not the main attraction, and while I'd usually be the first to stand up and shout, "CHIMES ARE NOT A LEAD INSTRUMENT," I'm so beaten down from the funeral organ on this album that when the chimes do come in here and there it's like a bucket of ice-cold water right in the face. You remember you're alive, and not sitting in attendance for your own funeral.

With a bunch of old church-goers who, for whatever reason, are the only people that bothered to show up to your funeral. 

At that point it's time to re-evaluate your life, folks.

 

VERDICT:  3/10 - Seriously?  (Christmas music for a funeral. If that's your thing.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. CXXVI

Man, I hope you guys like doorbells. . .

Album Title:  The Bells of Christmas Morn

Album Artist:  The Schulmerich "Carillon Americana" Bell

I've reviewed my fair share of blase 'Bell & Chimes' Holiday records over the years, as well as the alternative (and slightly better) 'Chimes & Organ.' There's a crap-load of that stuff out there to choose from, it was definitely all the rage back in the '50s considering how much of it you come across in your local thrift store (or record store dollar bin.) 

I assumed, when I first spotted this one, that it would sound similar to the previous records I've reviewed on here; I mean, it has 'bells' on the title, the track listing is similar, the artwork just as tired and lame. On other 'bells'-related albums, one can expect hand bells of varying size, usually performed by a 'band' (for lack of better term) of people ringing different bells at designated times in order to create an easily-discernible Christmas melody. 

Kris' old church downtown has a bell 'team' (or band, whatever), in fact: they line up in a row in front of a cloth-covered table, upon which arrayed out like medieval torture devices are bells of different sizes ('cause the bigger bells make lower-pitched sounds, etc.) They're then conducted by some old bag of a woman who definitely acts as if she's conducting the London Symphony Orchestra, and the results are what you'd expect.

This album, believe it or not, does not sound anything like the previous Bell/Chime/Organ albums I've reviewed in the past.

This album sounds like a doorbell.

The ol' Holiday message on the back of the cover. Don't believe any of it.

I wish I was kidding, but that's like the most accurate way I can possibly describe it. Well, maybe a room filled with multiple doorbells, all simultaneously going off at the same time. Now, you might be thinking to yourself, "Ope, here we go - Brian's over-exaggerating for entertainment's sake again. . ." but I shit you not, America - when I started playing this album on my turntable, both my dogs started to lose their shit in the living room. They thought someone was at our door.

Seriously.

So let's take a step back and analyze the nuts and bolts of this real quick. There's not much to find fault with with a track list of familiar Christmas songs, and the recording quality itself isn't horrible (it's a 70-year-old record, we'll cut it some slack.) The 'attraction' of this album was how they hooked up hundreds and hundreds of tons of cast-metal bells to an electronic organ (not even joking), so that when some asshole named Robert (a so-called 'Carillonneur,' mind you) plays a Christmas song on said keyboard, it strikes all these heavy-ass bells.

Goddamn it, Robert - you frickin' ruined doorbells for me.

With the lighter, higher-pitched bells, this could have been stomached in moderation, but when all you're doing is ringing super loud-ass bells non-stop, it gets old real fast. Like, ten seconds is too much. Robert, bells are accent instruments, used for emphasis or atmosphere (quietly, in the background). Unless you're announcing the hour of the day, calling people to prayer, or alerting people that there's someone at their door, we don't need bells in our day-to-day lives. And we certainly don't need bells this frequently in Christmas music.

Imagine hearing a crash cymbal in a song. Totally great once and awhile, for emphasis purposes.

Now imagine a song where it's nothing but repeated crash cymbals, from start to finish.

That's what this album is like.

VERDICT:  2/10 - Reality TV (Stock up on the Tylenol if you're dead set on listening to this one. You've been warned.)

- SHELVED-

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. CXVI

I hope you kids have been good this year, because if you haven't, Bibletone is gonna hear about it, then you're gonna BURN IN THE FIERY PITS OF HELL. . .

Album Title:  Christmas at the Organ

Album Artist:  Bibletone

Not sure where this one came from, but I can't imagine I paid more than a buck for it - this isn't the sort of album you see online and drop good money on. 

When I first saw this in the store, obviously the cover art drew me to it like a moth to a flame (I'm a sucker for cheesy artwork on a Christmas album.) I mean, who decided this picture was perfect for a good, ol' fashioned 'organ n' chime' Holiday record? Why the hell is this little girl looking at that baby like this? Siblings don't look at other siblings like this, so I'm not buying they're members of the same household. Did she ask Santa for a baby for Christmas? Why does she want a baby, what's she gonna do with it? Santa doesn't need to get involved with human trafficking like this, he's got enough shit on his plate to deal with as it is. 

Anyway.

This album is old. Like, really, really old. Even before looking it up online - because I was curious about the label - I knew that this thing was released in the late 1940s. The album is, no joke, probably 300gm at least - it's heavy. When I went online to look more into the good folks at Bibletone, I discovered that they were one of the first American companies to start pressing on 33 1/3 RPM discs, transitioning from the older 78's, and that they also were some of the first to utilize 'Long Playing Records.' But folks, that's about the only good things I can say about Bibletone, and this particular release.

Pioneering as it may have been back in the day, the recording quality here is pretty bad. Granted, it's almost 80 years old, so I'm not faulting the label for the lack of, you know, the science that existed back then. No, I'm faulting them for the subject matter of their recording. 

This whole album sounds like it was recorded at a church piano recital. . . except instead of a normal piano (like you'd see at a normal piano recital) the weird kids that go to this weird church had to use the church's dusty-ass pipe organ. Each of these songs sounds like a novice is playing them - instead of chords being played smoothly, they're mashed down as if by clumsy, little kid fingers. The ear-grating of these pipe explosions is complimented by sporadic bangs on chimes, I assume played by some old lady who also attends said weird church, and offered to accompany the little kids while they played their recital pieces.

The songs presented here are all the usual religious Christmas carols, which isn't too much of a shocker considering the instrumentation of this album and the fact that, you know, it's released by a record label called BIBLEtone. These are all songs that every soul in the country has ingrained in their DNA - we all know these songs by heart, we could recite the lyrics in our sleep at this point. As if doubting this, and the purity of our souls, the good folks over at Bibletone decided to play it safe and include a F***ING HYMNAL in this album.

That's right, folks. A hymnal. With all the lyrics to the included songs.

This was definitely a first for me, I've never come across something like this in an album before. An insert with a bunch of song lyrics? Sure, I've seen that a bunch of times. But a full-blown hymnal, with all the music and lyrics for songs everyone already knows by heart?  That's a whole other level of weirdness. The included pamphlet is about a dozen pages long, and includes all of the carols that appear on this album, along with some  other titles one can purchase from Bibletone (each, I'm sure, feature a free hymnal as well. . . for singing along at home, of course.)

The good folks over at Bibletone have an entire catalog of what I'm sure are stellar, religious albums for sale. In addition to the hymnal, these are also proudly listed on the back of the album sleeve, enticing the music lover with such tantalizing titles as Church Tower Chimes, Wedding Tunes, and Hymns of Gladness. For religious fruitcakes (you know, the ones that hate gays and minorities and vote for orange, treasonous rapists), collecting church albums like this must have been as entertaining as collecting Pokemon is for nerds and virgins.

GOTTA CATCH 'EM ALL.

Jesus . . .  or Charles Manson? 

So in summary, this album was about as lackluster as some of the other 'chimes and organs' I've reviewed over the years. It's boring, it's tired, the production level is straight-up amateur hour, and the record I listened to skipped so bad on Side 2 that my tonearm skipped and shot across the entire disc until it hit the run-out groove, I couldn't even listen to it. I consider this Divine Intervention, folks - God knew I shouldn't be listening to this garbage, even if it was a love letter to Him and his kid.

VERDICT:  2/10 - Reality TV (A relic from a bygone era of religious intolerance, featuring some of the most boring church music ever recorded, as well as a free hymnal for anyone who has grown up in a cave and doesn't know the f***ing lyrics to Christmas carols.)

- SHELVED-

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. CIII

  Welcome back to the Holliest, Jolliest, Musically-Snobbiest corner of Cyberspace. . .

Album Title:  Hi-Fi Organ and Chimes at Christmastime: Familiar Favorites

Album Artist:  Norman Roye

This is the sleepiest Holiday album I've listened to in quite some time. 

If you're a big fan of church organ, you'd probably love this one.  It seriously sounds like they just had an elderly guy - by the name of Norman Roye - walk in to a church, sit down at a church organ (and not just any church organ, mind you, but an Electronic Wurlizter) with a stack of Christmas sheet music, and start playing.  The sound engineer hit the 'record' button, the reels started spinning, and he stepped outside to have a cigarette (you know, because they frown at smoking inside a church.)  At one point, an old lady that works at the church decided to 'help out' and hit a chime a few times with a mallet.  Because the Spirit of Christmas.

"How long do you guys want me to keep playing this stuff?" the old man asks, wiping sweat off his liver-spotted, bald head.

"Until the reels stop, Norm," the sound engineer says, coming back in from his smoke break, "Just keep playing."

And so the old man, Norm, shrugs and continues playing what is quite possibly the most boring arrangements of these Christmas songs in existence.  The old man approaches this with mathematical efficiency:  he plays the sheet music as if he's doing chores, so technically it sounds like Christmas music, but in the way that a Christmas song sounds in an elevator.  

After reading through the back liner notes - who doesn't love liner notes - I've discovered that Norm is actually a 'young Canadian born American organist,' and not an old man.  I think this makes this worse, actually - someone young should have put more fire behind their playing, because this seriously sounds like someone dying in Wurlitzer-form.  Maybe that's the Canadian in him, I don't know.

VERDICT:  2/10 - Reality TV (Quite possibly the most boring album ever recorded by a 'young Canadian born American.'  I've been more enthralled watching my wife's under-watered plants slowly die on our kitchen window sill.)

- SHELVED-

- Brian