And we're closing in hard on Christmas, which, as we all say every year, seems impossible. At Champlain we've been in a cycle the last couple of years where we seem to be getting out later than normal, which makes the rush more noticeable: "Finally, all the grades are calculated and entered into the system; crap, tomorrow is Christmas! WTF?!?!" Nevertheless, we end up, at the very least, surviving the holiday. This morning I was supposed to pick my son up desperately early so that he could catch a 5:30 a.m. flight to Cincinnati to visit his Mom, and, of course, it was the only time that my alarm has not worked. Thankfully I magically woke up in time and was able to get him to the airport on time, all the while telling him that we had plenty of time and simultaneously considering how I was going to explain it to the residents of Bleak House that I was going to miss Christmas because I was driving my son to the Natti (he would have refused, but I would have knocked over the head and drove him anyway; he would have woke up with a headache in western New York somewhere, but there's Tim Horton's there so all would have been forgiven).
This year, however, let's do more than just survive the holidays, and in fact lay waste to them. This will be an amazing Holiday season and 2017, thankfully, will be much better than its witless and mean-spirited predecessor. So, Happy Holidays and thank you all for being my friends.
John Coltrane, I'm Old Fashioned
In honor of the season, and in light of last week's posting, I was tempted to go with ELP's Nutrocker, but thought better of it. For the last month I've been toying with including a selection from John Coltrane's Blue Train album, but, as is so often the case, I ended up choosing a different song than I initially intended. Originally I was going to propose Blue Train, the song that opens the album and provides its name. That song, as well as the rest of the album, is extraordinary, and owning Blue Train is required listening (and owning). Instead, however, I ended up choosing Coltrane's cover of I'm Old Fashioned, which in some ways is not representative of the rest of the album if for no other reason because it's the only song he didn't write. Lord knows everyone has covered I'm Old Fashioned over the year, including Chet Baker singing as well as a version where he plays with Stan Getz. It's a song which, oddly, seems to favor singers with a weaker voice, which may explain the popularity of Baker's version, and, for that matter, Fred Astaire's - or even the Diane Wiest version from Hannah and Her Sisters. I suspect it works with a weaker voice because the song celebrates a certain natural timidity. It also works beautifully as a jazz piece, although it may seem unusual coming from someone whose playing is as normally powerful or kinetic as John Coltrane (although, to be fair, he also played on Kind of Blue) - which is a testament to his talent. I guess I chose it this week because I have a very old-fashioned, probably bordering on maudlin, love of Christmas. The fact that I'm old-fashioned should come as a surprise to no one who follows this Discography discussion, because week in and week out I routinely display that I'm desperately out of it and behind the times. At the same time, one would not naturally assume that I'm a fan of Christmas for any number of reasons: my well-documented contrarian nature and/or the fact that I'm such an unrepentant socialist (and thus repelled by Christmas as capitalist wet dream) and/or my religious beliefs, which don't naturally line up with the season (although they're, oddly, closer than most folks would think). Still, I love Christmas, and I have wonderful memories of Christmas, although most of that relates to my son and the early years of my marriage, and not so much my own childhood, which was dominated by the Gulag Archipelago that was my own parents's marriage. Or maybe I have a Christmas shaped by an imagined Dickensian world that osmotically replaced my own as I grew up and read Dickens. In the end, I don't suspect it matters its origins, and all that matters is that I love the holiday. So, with Dickens in mind, I'll quote Scrooge's nephew Fred: "There are many things from which I might have derived good by which I have not profited, I dare say. Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas-time, when it has come round-apart from . . . the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that - as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!"
This year, however, let's do more than just survive the holidays, and in fact lay waste to them. This will be an amazing Holiday season and 2017, thankfully, will be much better than its witless and mean-spirited predecessor. So, Happy Holidays and thank you all for being my friends.
Gary Beatrice
Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Hysteric
Karen O is the vocalist, pianist, and face of Yeah Yeah Yeahs, in my opinion one of the best rock bands of the 21st century. The band made a series of loud, rollicking records and EPs that could be categorized as garage or alternative depending upon who was doing the categorizing. Then they made the unorthodox decision of releasing It's Blitz, a record which was somewhat softer and more melodic, highlighting Karen O's voice. I think it worked like a charm, and It's Blitz remains one of my favorite albums since Y2K.
"Hysteric" in particular finds her in fine form. Her vocals, the humming and whistling, and the evocative lyric "You suddenly complete me" makes for a beautiful, sensuous song.
Karen O is the vocalist, pianist, and face of Yeah Yeah Yeahs, in my opinion one of the best rock bands of the 21st century. The band made a series of loud, rollicking records and EPs that could be categorized as garage or alternative depending upon who was doing the categorizing. Then they made the unorthodox decision of releasing It's Blitz, a record which was somewhat softer and more melodic, highlighting Karen O's voice. I think it worked like a charm, and It's Blitz remains one of my favorite albums since Y2K.
"Hysteric" in particular finds her in fine form. Her vocals, the humming and whistling, and the evocative lyric "You suddenly complete me" makes for a beautiful, sensuous song.
Dave Wallace
Jackson 5, Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
I've expressed my love for early
Jackson 5 previously on this blog, and that extends to their Christmas album,
which is terrific (my daughters also are huge fans of it). This is the
highlight. The first part plays out as a traditional version of the song,
with impeccable harmonies by the Jackson brothers. Then, with a minute
left, the song transforms into an R&B rave-up, with them wishing everyone a
Merry Christmas and a "groovy New Year."
Dave Mills
Here's one more musical well-wish
for the holidays.
The Bird
and the Bee, Christmas Compromise
The only video I could find is of
a live performance. If you have Spotify or something similar and can listen to
the album version, it's a better production. But either way, given the
varieties of religious experience represented in this group, and given our
desperate need for compromise and understanding in this world, this song seems
apropos.
This also functions as
a recommendation of The Bird and the Bee for non-holiday-related
listening. They have a great retro-future lounge lizard vibe. The best
recommendation I can give of them is to point out that they've
created an entire album covering Hall & Oates songs, called
"Interpreting the Masters Volume 1: A Tribute to Daryl Hall and
John Oates." 'Nuff said.
Happy holidays to you all!
Dave Kelley
I have been racking my brain
trying to figure out what my final holiday selection would be. Yesterday
I drove to visit my sister in Charlotte and listened to hours of Christmas
music in the car. What to pick, what to pick.
Then I threw in a mix CD I
received from esteemed musicologists Nate and Miranda and budding esteemed
musicologist Logan. The CD was full of great music, none of which was
holiday related. Most of the songs were from acts that Nate and Miranda
saw live in 2016. I was fortunate enough to be at many of those same
shows.
2016 has sucked in many
ways. It also has been awesome in many other ways. So much great
live music to share with friends. So many awesome music posts.
My selection this week is Hurricane Season by the great Trombone Shorty out of New
Orleans. ( Oh yeah. Another great 2016 blessing. A fantastic
trip to New Orleans) Check him out live if you ever get the chance.
The song is instrumental, so if
you want to stay in the Christmas mood, make up a holiday title and replace
Hurricane Season with it.
Most importantly, I extend to all
of you the best wishes of the season.
Mike Kelly
Counting
Crows, A Long December
For as long as I've
been paying attention, the holidays don't mark the end of something but instead
are more like halftime. Winter is cold, its tough, it draws people closer
and you're never really alone. It would be a total stereotype to hold
this song up as an anodyne for all the Lexus commercials and jewelry ads
because this song actually got pretty famous a few decades ago but damn, can
Adam Duritz capture a moment. "When all at once you look across a
crowded room and see the way that light attaches to a girl" he opines in a
song where wistfulness, hope and beauty all coalesce into one. My sense
is that this song gets mistaken for a mournful "Winter Sucks" song
but it's more complicated than that. "I can't remember all the times
I tell myself to hold on to these moments as they pass" is good advice
usually associated with celebratory summer songs and anthems of the beach, but
being reminded to hold on to the days that are slogs because unexpected moments
of awesomeness are mixed in with doldrums in all sorts of complicated ways.
Phillip Seiler
For
the first time since joining this project, I was unable to find the song I
wished to write about on Youtube. Phil Manzanera and Any MacKay of Roxy Music
put out a Christmas album in the late 80s, early 90s under the moniker The
Players titled simply “The Players Present Christmas”. Using all acoustic and
traditional instruments, it is 33 tracks of fun and frivolity. I like it all.
But I love the second to last track: We Wish You A Merry Christmas. It starts
with a stately guitar (never noticed this song was a waltz before) and is
joined by harmonica on the melody for the first verse. And then, as if to
answer an argument and Christmas dinner, a response from an accordion and
bango: faster, louder, more insistent. And then the mess accelerates through 5
refrains of ever increasing speed and volume. Much like so many holidays it
builds and builds into the fast approaching drunken train wreck we all dread
but expect nonetheless. And just as it peaks? A few seconds of silence.
Followed by the plaintive wail of Andy Mackay’s saxophone reminding you tomorrow will not be a good day but we wish you a Merry
Christmas all the same.
Sadly, that song is not available (Spotify may have it. I am not on said service.) So here is The Players doing We Three Kings. It gives you a feel for them if not the actual piece.
And since I could not link to the song I really wanted to, I also give you my favorite version of The Carol of The Bells by The Bird and The Bee. It was my introduction to them and I have devoured their works ever since. It is a subtle and beautiful take on this classic. The key changes work so beautifully on this song.
Finally, I never wrote about the Pogues’ and Kirsty MacColl’s Fairytale of New York because this guy did it better.
Happy Holidays!
Sadly, that song is not available (Spotify may have it. I am not on said service.) So here is The Players doing We Three Kings. It gives you a feel for them if not the actual piece.
And since I could not link to the song I really wanted to, I also give you my favorite version of The Carol of The Bells by The Bird and The Bee. It was my introduction to them and I have devoured their works ever since. It is a subtle and beautiful take on this classic. The key changes work so beautifully on this song.
Finally, I never wrote about the Pogues’ and Kirsty MacColl’s Fairytale of New York because this guy did it better.
Happy Holidays!
Kathy Seiler
It's Christmas
Eve. I like this day more than Christmas. I LOVE anticipation. So, I'm back to
Christmas songs, but I promise, this is the last one(s).
Ray Charles,
Spirit of Christmas
Every year after we decorate the
tree, we watch National Lampoon's "Christmas Vacation" and I laugh
every goddamn time at every piece of physical humor in that movie. Everyone in
my house finds this amusing and agrees to watch the movie just to laugh at me
losing it over the scene with the sap-covered fingers that rip out magazine
pages. And I'm fine with that. But this song tugs at my heart strings, as Chevy
Chase watches old Christmas and New Year's home movies when he gets locked in
the attic.
This past week when we watched
this movie, my prodigal daughter had just come back to live in Vermont from her
6 month runaway stint to Florida, my parents were here, and we had all
decorated the tree and were watching the movie together. The lyrics really
struck home. Luckily another physical comedy moment happened just as I was
getting all misty-eyed.
BB King,
Back Door Santa
This song is awesome. An early
morning Santa that arrives at the back door, who delivers happiness and cheer
to the ladies while their "men are out at play" and gets rid of the
children by giving them a few pennies? And the line "I ain't like old St.
Nick, he don't come but once a year." Best. Double entendre. Ever.
Happy holidays, all. Whatever you
do or don't celebrate, I hope you all have love, joy and companionship in these
darkest days.
Cyndi Brandenburg
Pink
Martini, Ocho Kandelikas
This choice may seem pretty straightforward. After all, today is not
only Christmas Eve, but also the first day of Hanukkah. And several
music blog participants spent their last major holiday in Spain. And
what better way is there to start a Saturday Christmas Eve morning
than dancing an ironic tango with someone you love?
If only it were that easy.
Yesterday, I was determined to post something from my absolute
favorite "classic" Christmas recording, which I transferred to a
cassette tape from my dad's vinyl album sometime in the early 1980's.
Truly classical, beautiful, transcendent, timeless, "Christmas in the
Great Cathedral of Reims" was recorded on site decades ago. I guess I
lost track of time and age, because it never occurred to me that
something that was released in 1967 would be so totally unavailable
via digital form in 2016. Oh well. I really do wish I could share it
all with you, but I just can't figure out a way. At least not right
now (although I am hopeful that with my son's technical savvy, I can
make it happen soon...).
Later on, as I drank a Cosmo and made dinner, I could have sworn I
heard some song by The National emanating from the living room. I
walked around the corner, and there was one of my daughters back from
college, playing the piano and singing Pink Rabbits. When did THAT
happen? So, pink drinks became the theme of the night, obviously.
Which led me to Pink Martini, and this week's selection. All of which
is to say, sometimes things don't make coherent linear sense, but they
turn out to be the most compelling choice, regardless. No matter how
you celebrate, no matter what you believe, no matter who you are with,
make this one count. Happy everything to all of you, and have fun.
This choice may seem pretty straightforward. After all, today is not
only Christmas Eve, but also the first day of Hanukkah. And several
music blog participants spent their last major holiday in Spain. And
what better way is there to start a Saturday Christmas Eve morning
than dancing an ironic tango with someone you love?
If only it were that easy.
Yesterday, I was determined to post something from my absolute
favorite "classic" Christmas recording, which I transferred to a
cassette tape from my dad's vinyl album sometime in the early 1980's.
Truly classical, beautiful, transcendent, timeless, "Christmas in the
Great Cathedral of Reims" was recorded on site decades ago. I guess I
lost track of time and age, because it never occurred to me that
something that was released in 1967 would be so totally unavailable
via digital form in 2016. Oh well. I really do wish I could share it
all with you, but I just can't figure out a way. At least not right
now (although I am hopeful that with my son's technical savvy, I can
make it happen soon...).
Later on, as I drank a Cosmo and made dinner, I could have sworn I
heard some song by The National emanating from the living room. I
walked around the corner, and there was one of my daughters back from
college, playing the piano and singing Pink Rabbits. When did THAT
happen? So, pink drinks became the theme of the night, obviously.
Which led me to Pink Martini, and this week's selection. All of which
is to say, sometimes things don't make coherent linear sense, but they
turn out to be the most compelling choice, regardless. No matter how
you celebrate, no matter what you believe, no matter who you are with,
make this one count. Happy everything to all of you, and have fun.
Gary Scudder
In honor of the season, and in light of last week's posting, I was tempted to go with ELP's Nutrocker, but thought better of it. For the last month I've been toying with including a selection from John Coltrane's Blue Train album, but, as is so often the case, I ended up choosing a different song than I initially intended. Originally I was going to propose Blue Train, the song that opens the album and provides its name. That song, as well as the rest of the album, is extraordinary, and owning Blue Train is required listening (and owning). Instead, however, I ended up choosing Coltrane's cover of I'm Old Fashioned, which in some ways is not representative of the rest of the album if for no other reason because it's the only song he didn't write. Lord knows everyone has covered I'm Old Fashioned over the year, including Chet Baker singing as well as a version where he plays with Stan Getz. It's a song which, oddly, seems to favor singers with a weaker voice, which may explain the popularity of Baker's version, and, for that matter, Fred Astaire's - or even the Diane Wiest version from Hannah and Her Sisters. I suspect it works with a weaker voice because the song celebrates a certain natural timidity. It also works beautifully as a jazz piece, although it may seem unusual coming from someone whose playing is as normally powerful or kinetic as John Coltrane (although, to be fair, he also played on Kind of Blue) - which is a testament to his talent. I guess I chose it this week because I have a very old-fashioned, probably bordering on maudlin, love of Christmas. The fact that I'm old-fashioned should come as a surprise to no one who follows this Discography discussion, because week in and week out I routinely display that I'm desperately out of it and behind the times. At the same time, one would not naturally assume that I'm a fan of Christmas for any number of reasons: my well-documented contrarian nature and/or the fact that I'm such an unrepentant socialist (and thus repelled by Christmas as capitalist wet dream) and/or my religious beliefs, which don't naturally line up with the season (although they're, oddly, closer than most folks would think). Still, I love Christmas, and I have wonderful memories of Christmas, although most of that relates to my son and the early years of my marriage, and not so much my own childhood, which was dominated by the Gulag Archipelago that was my own parents's marriage. Or maybe I have a Christmas shaped by an imagined Dickensian world that osmotically replaced my own as I grew up and read Dickens. In the end, I don't suspect it matters its origins, and all that matters is that I love the holiday. So, with Dickens in mind, I'll quote Scrooge's nephew Fred: "There are many things from which I might have derived good by which I have not profited, I dare say. Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas-time, when it has come round-apart from . . . the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that - as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!"
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