H E A R__I T

"You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch"
- from Ru Paul's "Ho Ho Ho" album
(576k)

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T A B L E__T A L K

Will new technology that enables you to custom make your own CDs lead to the death of traditional albums? Talk it over in Table Talk

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R E C E N T L Y

Anonymous 4
11,000 Virgins
Sequentia
O Jerusalem
Tapestry
Celestial Light
(12/18/97)

Ivy
Apartment Life
Atlantic
(12/17/97)

Fiona Apple, Live at the Warfield
San Francisco
Sunday, December 14, 1997
(12/16/97)

You Am I
Hourly Daily
Sire
(12/15/97)

Flaming Lips
Zaireeka
Warner Bros.
(12/12/97)

BROWSE THE
MUSIC ARCHIVES

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V O W E L L

Sound Salvation
By Sarah Vowell
Survey says ...
Give the people what they want
(12/12/97)

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F E A T U R E

Paint it black
By David Bowman
A prayer for His Holy Hipness, Johnny Cash
(12/05/97)

________f r u i t c a k e_m u s i c

WITH CHRISTMAS ALBUMS

BY EVERYONE FROM RU PAUL

TO JANE SIBERRY, THERE'S A

"SILENT NIGHT" TO FIT EVERY

MUSICAL TASTE.

BY MARK ATHITAKIS | Christmas records are a lot like fruitcakes: they're usually awful, you don't really want them, you always get them, who puts the damnable things together God only knows, but you hang on to them anyway because, well, it is the holiday season and you don't want to feel guilty about rejecting a grand tradition. But, unlike Johnny Carson's joke that there's only one fruitcake in existence that just gets passed along from hearth to hearth, Christmas records are in abundance. They come out by the dozens, the hundreds, the thousands, creeping into record stores after Thanksgiving like processed cranberry sauce slowly sluicing out of a tin can. Bargain priced and custom-built for every possible target market in existence, you can rest assured that there's a "Silent Night" to fit every musical taste, age, race, sexual preference and denomination. Hark! The herald loss leaders sing.

Not that pop music hasn't produced some great holiday music. Elvis Presley's gospel background brought an earnest feel to his Christmas songs (conveniently packaged on 1994's "If Every Day Was Like Christmas"), and Run-DMC's "Christmas in Hollis" and the Ramones' "Merry Christmas (I Don't Wanna Fight)" have become unlikely classics. The Roches' lovely 1990 album "We Three Kings" bestows the sisters' gorgeous three-part harmonies upon some old chestnuts as they irreverently depict Frosty the Snowman as the victim of cruel schoolyard taunts ("You'll never be nuthin' but a snowman!"), and sing "Winter Wonderland" in New Jersey divorcee accents. And topping at least one critic's list is Vince Guaraldi's thrillingly innocent and ebullient jazz piano compositions for the TV special "A Charlie Brown Christmas," a perfect compliment to one of the last great parables about the overcommercialization of the holidays -- particularly "Linus and Lucy," now being used in a Nissan car ad.

For holiday albums in 1997, irony has become the watchword. There's often a slick feel of kitsch to the proceedings, and you can almost hear some of the artists giggling, "How cute, we're doing a Christmas record just like the Beach Boys had to." In fact, pubescent alternahorrors Hanson make a mockery of Brian Wilson's "Little Saint Nick" on their "Snowed In" collection, drenching the tune in a mess of guitar schlock and cut-rate scratching before the originals kick in. More entertaining -- if you don't mind the occasional marital aid joke -- is RuPaul's "Ho Ho Ho." Over a cushioned bed of generic but likable electrofunk, the transvestite superstar milks her 14th minute of fame for all it's worth, especially on a medley of standards and the plastic surgery obsessions of "All I Want for Christmas" (answer: rhinoplasty). The slower grooves take away from some of the fun, but the appearance of "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch" is a pleasant surprise, and as a whole the album gets over on sheer genderfuck inertia.

More overtly cynical is Canadian songstress Jane Siberry's "Child," a two-disc collection of loosely holiday-themed songs recorded live in New York last year. Focused on wintertime family dysfunction -- particularly the spoken-word "A Bitter Christmas," where the alarm clock breaks and the whole family sleeps through the big day -- Siberry breathily croons over a few traditional obscurities from England, Germany, France and Poland, like the cunning "Quoi, Ma Voisine, Es-Tu Fachée? (Neighbor, Neighbor)," about Jerusalem gossips trying to get their heads around the concept of a virgin birth. The true show stoppers, though, are selections from Siberry's earlier work, particularly the booming chorale of "An Angel Stepped Down" and the whimsical schoolboy paean "Hockey." But if Siberry's "Child" is sardonic, Andrei Codrescu's "Valley of Christmas" is breathing fire. Backed by Mark Bingham's haunting, ethereal keyboard compositions, the immigrant poet and beloved NPR commentator spins a complex cautionary tale about Almond Joy, the son of avaricious yuppies who searches for eternal life and discovers that celebrating Christmas every day isn't all it's cracked up to be. The story is illuminating and funny in places, but dashed ambition and the evils of technology are its main themes; if no Christmas is complete for you without a guilt-trip or two, look no further.

On the more upbeat end, the Tex-Mex holiday boogies on stalwarts Asleep at the Wheel's "Merry Texas Christmas, Y'all" have their pleasures, thanks to a pair of guest appearances by Willie Nelson (his voice now as strikingly harsh as aged whiskey) on "Pretty Paper" and "Silent Night." But it's "Xmas in Jail," a wry commentary on spending the holidays in a drunk tank, that gives the record its most effective moment. Sticking with American music, the deeply talented folk and blues guitarist Dan Crary's "Holiday Guitar" takes an appealingly restrained approach to standards like "What Child is This" and "O Holy Night." Respectful of the songs, but not limited by them, Crary's acoustic instrumentals open them up to new interpretations.

If you just want the songs -- no fuss, no gimmicks, no trendy reinterpretations -- Judy Collins' live album "Christmas at the Biltmore Estate" is polite, tasteful and unforced throughout. Limiting herself to a sole composition of her own (the tepid "Come Rejoice"), Collins' "The First Noel," "O Come, All Ye Faithful" and "Silver Bells" are all strongly reverent, if occasionally overwhelmed by home-fire mawkishness. Likewise, "Care of the Soul" author Thomas Moore, who's built a cottage industry on rejecting commercialism, assembles an impressive cast of musicians (including Celtic accordion virtuoso John Whelan and country star Kathy Mattea), and even plays some piano himself, on "The Soul of Christmas: A Celtic Music Celebration." The light, airy performances shift from the conventional "Silent Night" and "God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen" to traditional Irish songs like "Lully, Lullay." As a bonus, the CD comes packaged in a book with a lengthy essay by Moore on "The Soul of Christmas" -- recorded on a second accompanying CD -- detailing the history and spiritual nature of the holiday season. Whatta concept.

We can honor Christmas, Moore writes, "by observing its traditions as thoughtfully and intimately as we can ... As we tell its story and sing its song, it will transform us." As a respite from the gimmickry and contrivances of most Christmas records, it's a welcome dose of unapologetic sentimentality. And it beats "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" by miles.
SALON | Dec. 19, 1997