I blogged a couple of weeks back about how crazy I used to get about Christmas and how that's changed over the years. Of course, Christmas music played a big part in that, but I must confess that year after year of preparing Christmas concerts soured me to a lot of it. Over time I've compiled a lot of Christmas records, largely in an attempt to find something new. I have Christmas records with bagpipes and dulcimers, lounge records for sipping peppermint vodka, and obscure choral performances of medieval hymns. I honestly don't listen to much of it anymore, but here are seven holiday gems that I still dig. Most are a little less saccharine than typical yuletide fare, which is probably why I keep coming back.
1. "Little Drummer Boy," by Kenny Burrell. This is the opening track on a great record called Have Yourself a Soulful Little Christmas from 1967. It does a kind of Bolero build with the drummer, but starting with a combo and then gradually adding brass to the fade. It's all very understated and groovy, I think. I heard this for the first time last year, and it's quickly become a favorite.
2. "Another Lonely Christmas," by Prince. I'm glad His Funky Majesty was able to get this one recorded before becoming a Jehovah's Witness. This is the b-side to "I Would Die 4 U" from Purple Rain, and one of the most unique holiday lyrics out there. Who but Prince would commemorate the Savior's birth with, "U use 2 get so horny, U'd make me leave the lights on"? This one is a double-whammy because it also falls in the tradition of dead girlfriend songs, with the lover having passed from either stress or pneumonia on Christmas, leaving Mr. Nelson to pound banana daiquiris every December 25 for the past seven years. Hey - it was the 80's.
3. "This Christmas," by Donny Hathaway. My absolute favorite Christmas song, I first heard this one covered by Harry Connick, Jr., and Branford Marsalis. I still like this version better, but I'm not sure why. The lyrics are cliche, the horn players don't swing, and there is a really annoying bass drum in the mix. Still, Hathaway's vocal delivery is smooth and the electric piano is perfect.
4. "The Be-Bop Santa Claus," by Babs Gonzalez. This one is cheating a little, since it's really just an alternate rendering of "'A Visit from St. Nicholas" over musical accompaniment. Recorded at the height of the beat poetry craze, this is wonderfully tongue-in-cheek without being corny (or so I think). Mom and pop have been "goofing" on sherry and beer when Santa shows up in a Cadillac wearing a red-on-red shirt, a white mink tie, a red beaver hat, a red cashmere "benny," and horn-rimmed shades that cover just one eye. He raps with them for a while with a king-sized cigarette hanging from his lips before laying a few records and some Chanel No. 5 under the tree. Solid.
5. "Ain't No Chimneys in the Projects," by Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings. I've written about her elsewhere, so I won't labor the point, but Sharon Jones is bad. Great song that tugs a little at the heartstrings without being maudlin. Sharon's delivery is perfect and the production is classic soul, with strings swirling chromatically underneath.
6. "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus," by The Ronettes. Let me say first: I hate this song. Or, at least, I hate every other version of this song I have ever heard. This record, however, is on perhaps the greatest Christmas album of all time, A Christmas Gift for You from Philles Records. Ronnie Spector delivers a classic girl-group vocal over a wall of sound, set to a quasi-Latin groove. It's enough to make me forgive the insipid lyric for three minutes.
7. "Merry Christmas Baby," by Charles Brown. I've often wondered how my favorite holiday TV special would have turned out if the musical duties were turned over to the other Charles Brown, instead of Vince Guaraldi. I can actually imagine Charlie and Linus bringing the sad little tree back to play practice over the strains of this song. In any event, there are too few straight blues records about Christmas, which seems strange given my own experience with family dysfunction and holiday depression. This is a different type of blues record though, with a happy lyric and strangely melancholy tune.
Honorable mention: I've just discovered "Christmas Bop" from T. Rex, which I will probably have forgotten this time next year. Nevertheless, I will be grooving to this glam rock (bordering on disco, really) jam that tells you to put on your silk jeans and your space shoes. Also notable for the coinage of the term "T. Rexmas."
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