A Tale of Two Christmas Songs

Ramsey Lewis--"Here Comes Santa Claus" (mp3)

"I hate "Here Comes Santa Claus," my daughter said yesterday. "It's the worst Christmas song. It's so lazy."

You know how it goes:

Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus
Right down Santa Claus Lane
Vixen and Blitzen and all his reindeer
Pullin' on the reins, etc.

Not even knowing that the song was written by Gene Autrey, the singing cowboy, I immediately rose to the song's defense. "I like it," I said, "it's the only song that connects Santa Claus and Christianity."

Can you think of another one?

"Here Comes Santa Claus" makes a Christian connection to Santa Claus throughout its verses, with lines like "Hang your stockings and say your prayers/'Cause Santa Claus comes tonight" and "Santa Claus knows we're all God's children/That makes everything right" and the one that I remembered immediately when my daughter criticized the song, "Let's give thanks to the Lord above/That Santa Claus comes tonight."

Autry boldly goes where other Christmas songs don't do--they're either religious or secular.

"Here Comes Santa Claus" reminds us of that sometimes-forgotten need to create religions that human beings, as a species, have. It reminds us that the more "modern" religions are, of course, going to draw on some of the characteristics and stories of the older one and try to blend them into something coherent. Jesus and the Easter Bunny. Grendel and Cain and Satan. Most of the time, we like to think that, yeah, we're basically done with religion, that all of the good ones have already been created, but even something as annoying as the primary campaign of Mitt Romney tells us that, much as we may not like it, we will have to confront religions that are "too new." Maybe not this time around, but soon.

Meanwhile, "Here Comes Santa Claus" slips innocuously into our consciousnesses each year and posits God as the power behind the red-clothed man slipping down chimneys. I kind of like that. Just as Cotton Mather spoke of the "unseen world," many of us in this modern, over-analyzed, supposedly-quantified world still hunger for the mystery of things. It probably explains why my friends' children have such a hard time letting go of that elf. For all the talk of Santa, they never really see much tangible evidence (parents gobbling down cookies and carrots aside), but the elf who moves and gets in trouble and responds, well, maybe, just maybe, there's a chance. As with the other cosmic unknowns we hope might be true.

**********

For as much Christmas music as I listen to, there is only one song that can actually move me to tears, or at least to misty eyes. Oh, there are many that I respond, remembering nostalgically my childhood or my deceased mother or my lost youth, there are ones that make me wistful, contemplative, even worshipful. But only one stirs my emotions so much that I tear up.

The surprising thing is that the song is "Fairytale of New York" by the Pogues, with Kristy MacColl.

Set in a New York jail, in a "drunk tank," it's a kind of flashback/reminiscence/update of a relationship between a man and a woman who started out their relationship with such hope and ended up, well, in a drunk tank. When they talk of how they first met and kissed, their language is positive and romantic, when they ponder their current state, they are downright hateful as they trade insults back and forth:

You're a bum
You're a punk
You're an old slut on junk
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed
You scumbag, you maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy Christmas your arse
I pray God it's our last

Hardly the stuff to make people weep, eh? Perhaps as much as anything, it's the melody that gets me, especially the soaring part where the "boys from the NYPD choir still [sing] 'Galway Bay'/And the bells are ringin' out for Christmas Day." But I don't think so, though I do love that part. There's something sweet about the song, something that has both parties acknowledging that the American Dream didn't quite come true and that they've seen the worst that each has to offer to the other, but they still haven't quite given up.

The song says that the birth on Christmas offers a chance for rebirth for the rest of us, and the song, for all of its vulgarity, hammers that point home. It's a reminder of failure and defeat, disappointment and despair. But somehow that also makes it a celebration of a special day, a day of hope against hope. And I'll always cry for hope.



This post is dedicated to the memory of the late, great Kristy MacColl.

These Are A Few Of My Favorite Songs

Renee and Jeremy--"Sunny Christmas" (mp3)

How often in your life has someone asked you what your favorite song is? It can get pretty annoying, especially because you're put on the spot and expect to sort through everything you've ever heard and liked a lot and pick the one song (of the moment, I might argue). I can't imagine having a favorite song that transcends more than a week or two. A batch of songs, yes, but not one song.

Mathematically, all top 50 of my favorite songs are Christmas songs.

Think about it. Come December 1st, at my house, we tend to play nothing but Christmas music in the home and in our cars for the next three and a half weeks. We've got the Vince Guaraldi Charlie Brown, the Chieftain's The Bells Of Dublin, all of Sufjan's homemade Christmas songs (the only exciting addition to the ever-growing Christmas song catalog in the last 20 years) and a variety of other jazz, folk, classical, vocal, instrumental offerings. We've got the wacky stuff, too, though we don't tend to play it much.

So why are these tired Christmas tunes my favorites? Do the math. If your favorite songs are the ones you listen to the most, then all of mine are Christmas songs. By far. A new CD that I bought this year that I really liked I probably heard, at most, about six times. A classic CD that I love, I probably heard two or three times. But the songs of Christmas? It's not unreasonable to expect to hear the better-known ones 40 or more times during the month of December, and really even before, during those days in November after Thanksgiving.

They're everywhere! They're in the backs of our consciousnesses as we buy groceries, pump gas, shop in any store, watch television (which seems fixated on variations of that "it's the most wonderful time of the year" song, which I don't own). Last night, I went to listen to student performances of nothing but Christmas music during the annual Candlelight extravaganza.

And that doesn't begin to address my own playing of them. As I write this, I've listened to the last of the Sufjan songs, leftover from the other night, and now I'm listening to New Guitar Ensemble, whom I posted on this site last year (or was it the year before) right now. "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing!" in my head right now.

This month, I blew all of my eMusic "allowance" on new Christmas stuff. Not new songs, for the most part, but new performances by new people. I bought a kind of low-rent cocktail jazz set of Christmas songs by David Ian; I bought a new batch of solo piano Christmas pieces by . I bought a version of "The Christmas Song" as played by the late, great saxophonist Clarence Clemmons. Along with some other xmas detritus here and there.

Societally, we like to make fun of all of the Christmas music out there, all the cynical commercial decision-making going on behind all of those CDs, but, let's face it, the songs themselves, almost regardless of how they get tarted up, still hold a primal, nostalgic appeal, even in their most schlocky versions. Even artists I don't particularly like can still hit the "sweet spot" on a song or two. Because it's the song even more than the performer. To find versions that feel real, that feel sincere rather than obligatory, is bliss.

The other aspect of their "favoriteness" is that I've been listening to them for 54 years, even before I could walk or talk. Early on, my father indoctrinated us with the Ray Coniff Singers versions of classics that have now faded away like "Jolly Old St. Nicholas." For me, Christmas songs have 7 years on even the Beatles. How many thousands of times have I heard "Silent Night" or "We Three Kings" or "Oh, Come, All Ye Faithful"? How many listenings of Alvin and the Chipmunks have I endured? I couldn't begin to say.

So, yeah, many of my favorite songs tend toward nostalgic rememberances of Christmases that never were. I can't help it. I don't feel a need to try.

And as the years pass, I salute most those artists who try to add to the canon. Sufjan's "That Was The Worst Christmas Ever" (and about 8 more songs) and Shelby Lynne's r+b-ish "Xmas" and Jackson Browne's "The Rebel Jesus" and Shawn Colvin's digging up of "Love Came Down At Christmas" from somewhere all serve to freshen up the more traditional numbers when you're working through the same bunch of songs for an entire month. I also enjoy how different songs have moved to the forefront over the years. "O, Come, O, Come, Emmanuel" was not even in the mix 20 years ago. "Bring A Torch, Jeanette" and "Good King Wencelas" and "In The Bleak Midwinter" weren't either, and are all among my favorites now.

Among the many joys of Christmas is how the songs still transcend everything else. Regardless of their origins, they maintain a kind of purity now.

Simple, Honest Pleasures

Each year, the plethora of Christmas music increases, almost exponentially. By now, it's hard not to look at each successive release as a fairly blatant money grab, given the growth industry that Christmas music has become. Even if the singer in question is an "artist," admired and respected.

Why else would Bob Dylan skewer the whole genre so beautifully last year and give us all a great, cosmic laugh?

No, sadly, the years of non-commercial explorations of Christmas song have long since passed, CDs by Sufjan Stevens and Shawn Colvin being the last examples of "legitimate" Christmas albums that I know of, since both seem to have been motivated by family first and since both bring interesting new songs to the genre.

And, continuing my lifelong search for purity in art, I look for it in Christmas music, too, and, as is also typical of me, I establish subjective criteria that allow me to find it. Forget that Vince Guaraldi's A Charlie Brown Christmas was written as the soundtrack for a television special, and forget that its performances are now ubiquitous--for me, it retains its purity because I got to enjoy for so many years when it was under the radar and unpopular and because it never did become popular until long after Guaraldi's death.

So here are my wacky criteria for "honest" Christmas music:

1. It does not appear to have been done for commercial reasons.

2. Even if it was done for commercial reasons, it was blatant or particularly successful.

3. It adds something new and valuable to the genre.

Transition.

One of the greatest gifts I received for Christmas in recent years was the turntable that allows me to turn old record albums into mp3's (except that an annoying, unnamed woman assumes I will convert her albums to mp3 whenever she feels like it, but, a minor nuisance). And one of the conversions that I made in the last year or so was an old Christmas record, A Collection of Favorite Christmas Carols by The New American Guitar Ensemble. Sounds like the New Christy Minstrels or something.

Not the catchiest name, nor, if you look at the graphic below, not the most eye-catching album cover. When I got it, I had to order it through the mail from some obscure record label, and it came cheaply packaged, with the front and back text and images glued onto a white album cover. Not available in any store, as they used to say on late night TV.

But it's a sly little record, if for no other reason than there is no New American Guitar Ensemble, there's just a guy with a multi-track recorder. And he's a guy, Lewis Ross, who can play the guitar, in this case, the steel-stringed acoustic guitar.

If you've ever doubted that acoustic guitar and Christmas were meant to go together, give a listen to the tracks below. No rhythm tracks, no studio enhancements, no vocals. Just that guitar, or those guitars, when he's feeling fancy. The other thing you can tell, if you are a player, is that these are sweet guitars--aged, mellow, rich with depth of sound and their own natural reverb. The kind that don't need enhancements.

And the arrangements are clever, too-the way the melody mutates on "God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman," the layering of "Jolly Old St. Nicholas" over Pachabel's Canon, the beautiful stringbends on "The First Noel," the pairing of "O Tannenbaum" with "Good King Wenceslas," the dirge-like quality of "We Three Kings" that sends you into a blissful contemplation.

So if you're always a Scrooge like Billy, or if you're just already a bit worn out from the ever-increasing commercialism of this holiday, give a listen to this aural equivalent of Charlie Brown's Christmas tree--likely to be overlooked, but a thing of beauty when given some attention. Sometimes the most relevatory experiences are the simplest and least-technical. And if someone complains about the snaps and pops, tell them it's just the logs in the fire.

1. "Joy To The World" (mp3)

2. "The First Noel" (mp3)

3. "Hark, The Herald Angels Sing" (mp3)

4. It Came Upon A Midnight Clear" (mp3)

5. What Child Is This?" (mp3)

6. Away In A Manger" (mp3)

7. Jolly Old St. Nicholas" (mp3)

8. Bring A Torch, Jeanette" (mp3)

9. O Tannenbaum / Good King Wenceslas" (mp3)

10. Silent Night" (mp3)

11. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" (mp3)

12. Little Town Of Bethlehem" (mp3)

13. Gloria In Excelsis Deo" (mp3)

14. We Three Kings Of Orient Are" (mp3)

Merry December!

Coconut Records--"It's Christmas" (mp3)

What better way to start the Christmas music month than with a bunch of free tunes, free tunes from our friends over at Target? Forget their donations to right wing, anti-gay political candidates. All of that is forgotten, if not forgiven. They're still our favorite major retailer, and, hey, it's Christmas, right? Peace on earth, goodwill towards men.

Not only that, they're actually giving away free stuff. Here's their holiday mix from modern hipsters like Bishop Allen, and the best news is that you can download the whole thing for free just by clicking on those colorful words you just read. What is better than free, new Christmas songs? Not new versions of old Christmas songs. New songs. Thirteen of them.

So, Merry Christmas early! It didn't cost us a cent.

And we hope that's just the start of our December here at Bottom of the Glass. Traditionally, and yes, we can say that now that we are in our third year, in addition to our usual scintillating posts and commentaries about society and modern life, we have sprinkled in the kinds of "end of year" stuff that everybody else does because, hey, it's the end of the year! So yes, you'll be seeing our "best of" lists and our summing ups and our Christmas favs and our New Year's Resolutions.

Based on some rumblings I heard here and there, I think you'll also be able to look forward to a "Guest blog" or two. That's a feature we've always offered here at BOTG, and, three or four times, people have actually taken up on it. I think there are a couple in the works.

The next few weeks will be crazy around here, with all of the holiday decorating, wrapping up of school, Fantasy Football playoffs, faculty parties and bowling tournaments, shopping, cooking, our outrageous party schedules, concert tickets, and above all, blogging.

I hope I'm not stealing too much of Billy's thunder by revealing that he is planning our first-ever BOTG Christmas Caroling event. It will take place live on here on the website at 8PM on Dec. 12th, using the absolutely latest blogging technology. You will be able to load the songs directly onto your Ipod, and watch the festivities right here. You will be able to sing at home; you will hear us and we will hear you. And we'll be able to see you. So wear something decent. Or not. That's technology, baby!

It's the most wonderful time of the year. We're ready for it. Are you?

It's the most wonderful time of the year....

As with most music-related blogs, December is a special month at BOTG. Not only do we get to ponder and then pontificate about what we think are the best songs and CDs of the year, but, at least in my home, the days right after Thanksgiving are when we make the transition to 3-4 weeks of Christmas music being pretty much all that we listen to. So we get to share the holiday* music wealth, too.

Regarding those best songs, that will be difficult for me. Not that it hasn't been a good year (though it probably hasn't been a great year), but most of the time, just like I'm not thinking whole CDs anymore, I'm also not thinking in terms of what was released in 2009. There is so much music available now, and even more with what people are sending us here. Beyond those newly-released freebies, however, I don't have a good sense of what came out when.

2009 is the first year I heard Rusted Root's "Send Me On My Way" or Warren Zevon's "My Ride's Here" or, just today, Ray Davies' "Thanksgiving Song." My ideal list would probably better be titled "What I Heard For The First Time and Really Liked This Year."

One of the many joys of this blog is making those kinds of continual discoveries, and I'm glad that "hey did you ever hear" or "this post reminds me of another song" have become part of the conversation here. So, I'll find a way to make the Best Of list work, and if last year is any indication, Billy's and my list aren't likely to have too many intersects with the general consensus. Though Miley Cyrus does have a shot to make one of our lists.

Billy's.


(Will St. Vincent and the National's cover of "Sleep All Summer" make Bob's Best of 2009 list? Wait and see, but listen now: St Vincent and The National--"Sleep All Summer: (mp3) )

Regarding those holiday* songs, well, we could never hope to accomplish the brilliant lists put up by the Leather Canary (who seems to have gone defunct, alas) last year. They were so comprehensive, and I look forward to listening to them again if I can find them. Still, we enjoyed putting up one holiday* song a day up until Christmas, so you'll notice that I've just started that tradition again. As always, recommendations are welcome.

So let me implore you again. Even though people tell me that they don't read this blog for the music or the writing, but just to see what random pictures of hotties Billy will put up (even Manga hotties!) that have no relation to whatever he is posting about, there will be a lot of good music for you to hear this month, music of good cheer and music, perhaps, of lasting quality. So tune in and turn on with us and let us enjoy the various pleasures of the year as it winds down.

*I love the ACLU, but the idea that "Christmas" is to be replaced by "holiday" in order to be secular, inoffensive, inclusive or whatever strikes me as simply going too far. Shawn Colvin is available at Itunes, the St Vincent and The National cover is available at eMusic.

From the BOTG Mailbox: Matt Kanelos + Peasant

One of the really cool side benefits of writing a music blog is that all these up-and-coming artists (and, let's be honest, some that aren't going much of anywhere), send us songs. They send us links to their MySpace pages, or to their YouTube videos. Best of all, sometimes they send us their actual music. And they beg us to post it and brag about it.

We've chewed on how to properly handle this for a while, and here's what we're doing.

If we like stuff, we'll probably get around to using it. If we get enough of a taste of an artist and are intrigued, we'll probably even add some extra commentary. If we don't particularly like it, or if it's beyond unlikeable and into the "not good for anyone's ears" category, then we're not gonna post it. We're not gonna poop on people who were hoping we'd do them a solid.

When You Walk It Makes No Sound - Matt Kanelos (mp3)

Garden State. I think of Garden State. You know, the Zach Braff/Natalie Portman movie that people love or hate, with an ending that either ruins the whole experience or merely confirms aforementioned hatred? Really, almost any movie by Focus Features or Fox Searchlight that centers around the stilted romantic adventures of teens or 20somethings would be a fine and dandy place for this song.

That's meant to be a compliment, by the way.

I want to see someone put this in a movie. Hell, I can think of at least two handfuls of scenes in my head, six of which would star Zach Braff, where this song would be like BASF or Clorox Color-Safe Bleach. This song would make a good scene better. It would make the yellows yellower and the blues bluer. Although I'm really awful at this, when listening to Kanelos' songs -- and I've only heard four -- I think of a sunnier Iron + Wine. Maybe younger and therefore less disillusioned. His song "Deerfield" definitely gives me a little Ben Folds feel, but only slightly. If you dig stripped-down, slightly off-kilter singer-songwriter material, keep an eye out for this guy.

The Wind - Peasant (mp3)

Remember a few paragraphs ago when I was envisioning Kanelos' music in a movie? Well, these dudes would be on the same soundtrack. But where the first song might be used during a particularly romantic moment, or when the heartsick protagonist is staring out the classroom window while the object of his affection goes to the parking lot to smoke a joint with his best friend, this Peasant song seems to require a driving scene. One person in the car. Flashing back through prior scenes in the film, or maybe just staring straight ahead, trying not to cry.

Peasant reminds me a little of Band of Horses, another band I'm only just discovering. Maybe these guys are a little bit simpler, but there's something alluring about that high-pitched tendrill voice. None of the four songs of theirs I've discovered go longer than about 3 1/2 minutes. They like to float on a cool acoustic pop breeze, one that dies down before it gets too cold.

BONUS CHRISTMAS SONG! (Because Bob said so)
Make It Home - Juliana Hatfield (mp3)
Sure, it's kind of a downer (which, incidentally, never hurt the Greatest Depressing Holiday Song Ever, Joni Mitchell's "River"), but it's about remembering that just having a home is a blessing in and of itself. Besides, it was used in My So-Called Life, which automatically requires me to love it.

A Month Of Christmas

Louis Armstrong (with Velma Middleton)--"Baby, It's Cold Outside" (mp3)

For the next 25 days, imagine that we have given you one of those wooden box Advent calendards with all of the little doors with the days of the month on them, except that each day when you open one, it will be a Christmas song. Oh, we'll be doing our regular posting each week, but expect a little aural gift from us each day as well.

Come Thanksgiving, it's hard to get anything but Christmas music on a public cd player in my household. We're often slow to decorate, but we get the music going pretty darn early. There's a pecking order, too.

1. A Charlie Brown Christmas--Vince Guaraldi. I do claim with some pride that long before this became ubiquitous holiday listening, this was a favorite. We even own this baby on vinyl. The beauty of it is that you can listen to it a billion times and it never gets old, so you never care that you hear it in the grocery store.

2. The Bells of Dublin--The Chieftans. John introduced us to this one, and it has been a key to the playlist ever since. Brilliant guest contributions from Jackson Browne, Burgess Meredith, Nancy Griffith, Rickie Lee Jones and others. All of the songs run together and create an old world Christmas vibe that feels timeless. In my humble opinion, it is the best Christmas cd to play at night in front of a fire, though it is also the soundtrack to any present-opening festivities.

Beyond that, it's pretty hard to break through. Shawn Colvin has had some success, as has a compilation called Have Yourself A Jazzy Little Christmas. Also, a cd of a full choir doing traditional classics like "In The Deep Mid-Winter."

A guy who made big inroads into the playlist last year is Sufjan Stevens. His "homemade" cds, Songs For Christmas, that he made his family over the course of several years are guaranteed to become family favorites for us, too. As you would expect from Stevens, he not only touches on or reinterprets some classics, but he also writes several soon-to-be classics of his own.

And that's the point, isn't it? I don't think the world needs a new version of "Blue Christmas" at this point. Try if you must, but Elvis pretty much owns that one. Same with many of the other classics. So the challenge becomes to offer either 1) a stunningly-different reinterpretation, 2) a traditional Christmas song that no one else has been recording, or 3) a new song. I'm partial to all three and find that the most successful Christmas cds contain at least two of the three types of songs. As group like Brooks and Dunn have proven, though, you can do all three on a cd and still put out pure crap.

Good Christmas music is tougher to create than you might think.

Based on the last week down here in Florida, there is a chestnut that has been roasting on the open fire for decades and is now ready to be shared once again. Everywhere we have gone, it seems we have heard someone's version of "Baby, It's Cold Outside." I can't believe how many times I've heard it in the last 5 days. Of course, Florida does have its share of senior citizens, so that may skew the TJMaxx playlist, who knows? But maybe that's a good place to start--with a light, sexy, funny, and fun holiday song to get everyone in the mood.

I promise you, though, from here it goes to the weird to the wonderful to the obscure to the slacker versions of that ultimate commercial endeavor--the Christmas song.