Baby It’s Cold: 1955 active ingredients for RnR

Little Richard, Al Green, Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry all start to chart their success in 1955. Hop those socks, chicks and daddios.

The Chordettes hit with ‘Mr. Sandman’ the year before, and its puckish author Pat Ballard penned a novelty Christmas send up this year. Dorothy Collins charted to #51 with “Mister Santa.” Hey, that’s kinda funny.

Please, keep in mind, we want to rock and we want to roll. But we need to marry up doo wop, the blues, some jazz and some attitude here.

Let’s dole out the doo wop, baby cakes! The Voices look dapper and trim. I’ll let their “Santa Claus Baby” and “Santa Claus Boogie” speak for them. ‘Cuz i can find no more ’bout dem. Yet, they send me.

Bluesy and sultry Johnny Moore with his Three Blazers scorch their way through “Christmas Eve Baby.” Lock up the women!

Jazz standard bearer Louis Armstrong (he’s only 54 years old here) is still churning out the beat in 1955.  “Christmas Night in Harlem” and “Christmas in New Orleans” paint you trumpetty landscapes of happenin’ holiday whoop-de-dos you wish you could get to.

That funny gospel exclaiming bit gets the workout with “Christmas Gifts” via Walter Schumann and Jester Harston exhorting us all jazzy-like to get going with the Christmas shopping.

After their #1 ‘Earth Angel’ (on the R&B charts) The Penguins released “Christmas Prayer.” Their  heavenly harmonies connect churchy gospel to doo wop to the blues to that next level of cool.

A Cool Cool Christmas” frostily delivers more doo wop by The Sabers. But this time they call it rock ‘n’ roll. Get some! The backup wailing and saxophone craziness makes one lose control, it does.

Let’s add some electric guitar and–voila! “Rock ‘n’ Rolly-Polly Santa Claus” by Lillian Briggs.

Some Cleveland schoolmates wanted to be as good as The Moonglows and The 5 Keys. They called themselves The 5 Stars and played dives and clubs until a couple recordings came out in 1955. (Dave Clark by then had redubbed them The Hepsters.) “Rocking’ and Rollin’ with Santa Claus” is one of their hits, and it’s a keeper.

Died. You’re Welcome: Santa (7)

Santa must’ve had work-related accidents before now.

Ron and Tyler Goudreau from Canada muse over whether “Santa Claus was Bitten by a Zombie” and one time or another. They’re not terribly clever about it, but they do rock it in their family room.

Died. Your Welcome: self sacrifice (1)

Since love loss leads so easily to commit seppuku, we need an anthem for suicide watch for the Nativity.

Please consider this Up With People version by Private Instigators: “Please Don’t Kill Yourself this Christmas.” Complete with a PA hotline phone number at the end.

I want to live–to open presents!

Died. You’re Welcome: murder (1)

I know… you were hoping for some metal… some death metal…

Almost there (i’m a little old for headbanging regularly).

And I KNOW Weird Al Yankevic has a comedy classic “The Night That Santa Went Crazy” but despite the hints of elficide, it’s mostly about torture-killing the reindeer and we’ll deal with roadkill in another week or two.

So to start you out of the grisly world of grinchy life-taking (check out my Halloween week from last year as well), here’s cute little Londoner Silver Darter, singing about luring you to his cabin and relieving you of your burden of breathing for the holidays: “The Face of Death.”

BLUE ALERT: the s word (5)

The pressure to be relentlessly merry for the second half of December does not prohibit calamity, mishap, and bad breakups. It makes the pathos so much worse, in fact.

Landon Tewers, a mopey rocker, really delivers on this message of bedroom betrayal and cutting faces out of pictures.

Careful, “I Hope You Have a Shitty Christmas” contains many more oaths than the s one. But it does rock out that list of what i wish would happen to you (including a shark attack).

BLUE ALERT: the s word (2)

The exclamation OH SHIT is merely gasp of astonishment, quite appropriate for The Advent.

Oh Shit, It’s Christmas!”  by the Tim Tations is a bouncy garage howler. Almost reverent in its anarchic call for revolutionary antimaterialism, really.

Oh Sh*t, It’s Christmastime” by The Mad Tea is also mad rockin’ fun with a twist of Limey. Party music.

Musically mediocre, the video for The Zissou Society’s “Oh Shit! It’s Christmas” is a compelling climb through the TV time tunnel to the holiday hokum of 1970s commercials. Wow what video fun.

Deer Tick’s “Holy Sh*t, It’s Christmas” really digs down into the underground of experimental rock. A rock bottom gravelly voiced angry celebration.

Red Peters as usual gets dirty and nasty with his standard: “Holy Shit, It’s Christmas!” I guess it’s jolly.

It’s The Hot Dogs who get the rock-out-with-their-shit-together nod with a hot hammerin’ “Holy Shit, It’s Christmas!”

BLUE ALERT: not quite the s word (-2)

Significant anger is directed at the abuses of the holiday spirit of giving and not caring. So here is some almost swearing from the people at Dot Photo who have cobbled together an impressive slide show buffet of presents you only give to those you want to know are beneath your good graces: “Stop Giving Me Crap for Christmas” by Bobby Gaylor.

Big ups to Bobby for including novelty christmas albums by cats or dogs; more ups on the video for including choco-pooping toys.

BLUE ALERT: number two (4)

While feces and feliz navidad have a ho-ho factor of 7.35 built in, the awkward inappropriateness a merry dump next to the chimney raises the horror of the humorless. Enter Andy Dick, the off-putting offspring of Eww and Ick. His seasonal poop tale dabbles in rape panic, pedophlia, and of course shit and run. All euphemistically sung with an impish grin. This is about as bad as it gets, folks.

“Santa’s Yule Log” from Keven and Bean’s Santa’s Swingin’ Sack.

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BLUE ALERT: number one (2)

American original Frank Zappa created his own form of jazz rock fusion after experimenting with form (Mothers of Invention) in the ’60s. By the ’70s he was no longer ahead of his time, but recognized to the point that he became nauseatingly popular (‘Valley Girl’). This is another of those moments, the song “Yellow Snow” from the album Apostrophe. You can dance to it, but out of respect don’t.