Year-round Yuletide oddities
Santa was delayed back in 1964, according to Dr. BLT in “Santa Got Stuck in Saskatchewan.” Poor fool, if only he’d followed this rockingly instructive tune, he’d not been so lost.
“Another Beatles’ Christmas Record (1964)” is largely a thank you for this (buying the book) a thank you for that (seeing the film) with only a tad wee bit o’ singing. Those airport receptions knocked us out, man! is a sample of the great words. Yet i dunno why Beatle peadles never caught on.
The Seething Coast gets antic with a rap-like folk diatribe “Tinker’s Blues” which brings out some thinking, including Sometimes I think of Christmas time in 1965. This may be a Viet Nam riff, but also a groovy ditty.
“The Beatles’ Third Christmas Record” careens through Israel, all-white policy, success, Vietnam, copyright infringement, and the weather. A candid snapshot of the time.
WyGuy raps out the loss of spirituality for the holiday in “Mean Spirited” by alluding to several movies/specials, including the Charlie Brown one Way back three years after the Christmas of 1962. Do the math, i guess.
Allan Sherman (remember him?) tells it like it makes you itch with newsfed laughter in “Have Yourself a Sixties Merry Christmas.” But he means 1965. He says so. Schlocky lounge comedy, but that was king back then. (Aka ‘Draft Cards Burning on an Open Fire.’)
Christmas in the ’60s was fine maintains Fay Lovsky in “Christmas was a Friend of Mine.” Odd brassy slow-mo pop. Nick & Simon mainstream it. Not as good.
“My Christmas is Better Than Yours” is the war of the ’80s ‘gainst the ’60s. Don’t Call Me Ishmael seems to prefer the later (Instagram?!) but a ding dong daddy case is made for the old timey. Big band pop.
“The Beatles Fifth Christmas Record (1967)” does nae sa much celebrate the year that was, but contextualizes the mess of the latter ‘Sixties. (Laughter.)
Did someone ask about maryjane? “Green Butter Christmas” is no ‘Alice’s Restaurant,’ but Hilary Marckx employs the same storyteller schtick to explain why you didn’t get your presents in ’67 (the fat man was TOO high!).
The poignancy of the holidays punches up every memory. Hayes Carll tells the tale of Lola’s kid who went off to the War around Christmas, and all she has left of her boy from her bar she built in ’67 is the black velvet painting of “Jesus and Elvis.” Dixie home grown country pop, with a sudden outro.
“The Beatles 1968 Christmas Record” was a real trip, including talented fooling around. Here’s Side A.
Mary Chapin Carpenter has one memory of Christmases past and in her gentle folk “Christmas Carol” she mentions the Beatles’ White Album from that recall.
Chuck Brodsky spins a bluesy yarn “The Great Santa Snowball Debacle of 1968.” Halftime of an Eagles game the fans turned ugly on Kringle. Bad show, ya naughty-niks.
“Family Coach” from Lilac Time anticipates the moon landing of next summer, while traveling for the holidays. The similarities of the outer space capsule and the teamwork required melds nicely in this indie listenable.
The seventh and last of The Beatles’ fan club Christmas records, known oddly enough as “The Beatles Christmas 1969 Record,” highlights how they do nothing together in the same room. A little this, a lots o’ that. Actually melody from Paul. Plug for Ringo’s movie. And lots of Ono.
Thingmaker multi-mediates an experimental “Xmas, 1970” to reveal he is not too big for toys. Yep, that’s 1970 awreet.
Paulo Furtado, The Legendary Tigerman, lays down the blues from Christmas the year he was born (he got shoes) until now. “Fuck Christmas Baby (I Got the Blues)” is less casual BLUE ALERT and more musical hoedown.
“Suffering,” an emotional indie from Fab Foursome, Frode Johannesen, and Line Merete Larsen, asks that you put on the old records. And, i guess, it’s Christmas–somewhere.
Rod Picott waxes tragic over his repressed upbringing symbolized by the “Jackknife” gifted to him way back in ’73 for Christmas. It glints, it cuts, it lasted, it’s cold… you get the drill.
Twist and clap! “Christmas 1974” from Silvery is whoa-ohh partying rocking something something fun.
McCarthy Trenching gets almost cowboy with his folksy reminiscent “Christmas 1974,” a snapshot of a young (lonely) bride and her DIY Christmas in a farmhouse somewhere. Spookily quaint. (Missing his mom…?)