Christmas is now mere hours away. This means that if your shopping remains undone, you may be in trouble comparable to Arnie's in a festive classic. Mine is all safely done, wrapped and placed under the tree for my brother to poke at before opening (this is why I don't wrap them until Christmas Eve). This is probably a time for relaxation (unless you're making Christmas dinner): perhaps you'll go to Mass, perhaps you'll watch the Father Ted Christmas special (an annual tradition, since RTÉ are unimaginative), perhaps you'll watch some Yuletide film (Die Hard is the favourite, of course). Then again, perhaps you'll spend your time thinking about Christmas itself.
So ultimately, what does Christmas boil down to? The usual tabloid nonsense at this time of year about how Christmas is being stolen from Christianity is, of course, just that: complete nonsense. Christmas is not just about the birth of Jesus (let's face it, there's only a 1 in 365 chance it really is his birthday); it's about those great and elusive concepts of "peace" and "goodwill". In fairness, what could be more purely Christian than the spreading of goodwill towards all humanity? On that note, do everyone a favour this Christmas: if you happen to be out and about on Christmas Day, smile at people on the street, whether or not you know them, and wish them a merry Christmas. It's the best way to spread good cheer.
Now, while Christmas is about goodwill towards everyone, most people tend to associate it with family, which is entirely correct. Christmas is also a time for celebrating those we love and cherish. This is the point behind the giving of presents, and that cliché of "it's the thought that counts"; the surest sign imaginable that the present you have bought is God-awful. The point behind presents and indeed cards is to show that we appreciate those around us. It's also, of course, a time for friends; it may be nice to call in on some friends, if only for a few moments, on Christmas Day, or perhaps to give them a phone call. Nothing is so wonderful as an unsolicited call bearing only good wishes.
If you're working hard to prepare the house for visitors today, or else working on making dinner, it may be helpful to take a few moments to think about why exactly you're doing this, especially if you're feeling a little grumpy about it. It'll help a lot. Trust me; I just did – hence this post.
I'll take this opportunity to wish everyone who's reading this a very merry and safe Christmas. I do hope no-one is inconvenienced by the continuing inclement weather. I may post again in the next week, but if not, then I wish you all the best for 2011 as well.
[TEN AND A HALF HOURS UNTIL CHRISTMAS!]
24 December 2010
20 December 2010
Alternative Christmas Song No. 3
Silent Night – Jarvis Cocker, Lisa Hannigan and Richard Hawley
All right, the song itself isn't remotely alternative; it's the most famous of all Christmas carols. Even this version isn't terribly alternative – they don't even sing the second verse. It is, however, an utterly gorgeous version of the song, recorded recently for the Other Voices programme down in Dingle, Co. Kerry. The contrast between Hawley's stately, steady baritone and Hannigan's ethereal soprano is just magnificent; they should record an album together. Check out that slide guitar too.
[5 days until Christmas!]
All right, the song itself isn't remotely alternative; it's the most famous of all Christmas carols. Even this version isn't terribly alternative – they don't even sing the second verse. It is, however, an utterly gorgeous version of the song, recorded recently for the Other Voices programme down in Dingle, Co. Kerry. The contrast between Hawley's stately, steady baritone and Hannigan's ethereal soprano is just magnificent; they should record an album together. Check out that slide guitar too.
[5 days until Christmas!]
17 December 2010
A Most Seasonal Argument
At this time of year, there are many personalities who spring to mind: from the infant Christ (and indeed all the players in the Nativity story) and Father Christmas to George Bailey and, of course, John McClane. Yet there is one who is constantly misrepresented: Ebenezer Scrooge. He has appeared in many guises, played by (among others) Albert Finney, Michael Caine and Bill Murray (sort of). The sadly oft-forgotten fact is that, as those Muppet ladies sang, there is a sweet man inside; one who deserves to be recognised.
After all, Scrooge changes entirely by the end of A Christmas Carol. In fairness, this is not an easily-overlooked detail; the entire point of the book is that Scrooge changes his ways (partly because he's faced with eternal damnation, it must be said). In point of fact, Dickens tells us that: "Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh, and little heeded them; for he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset". Presumably it is the descendants of these easily-amused folk who now think of Scrooge only as a mean-tempered miser. We're also told in the book's final paragraph that "[h]e had no further intercourse with Spirits", which is rather comforting (if a little troubling in its implications).
Despite Scrooge's change (he even sings; why yes, I am treating the Muppets version as definitive. Why not?), the idea of him is so bound up with the notion of miserliness that we even have adjectives such as "Scrooge-like"; he is the very form of mean-spiritedness, in the popular imagination. This can be seen, for example, in a recent Meteor ad, where the boss of the ad's protagonist (such as he is) is compared to Scrooge. Part of this probably comes from Dickens's propensity to attribute names to characters which seem to fit their character's personality; it must be said that the name "Scrooge" does sound more like a tight-fisted moneylender than a generous, kindly celebrant of Christmas.
The fact is that A Christmas Carol is very bound up with Christian notions of sin and (more importantly) redemption. Now, I'm not one of these people who is obsessed with the whole myth of "Winterval" and the secularisation of Christmas, you'll be pleased to hear. It is true, though, that society in general has become more secular since the publication of the book; it's not surprising, therefore, that it has acquired a different emphasis in the popular imagination. It remains a morality tale, of course, but it seems almost as though the focus has shifted to Scrooge as a "what not to do" type figure, rather than an ideal of redemption to aspire towards. This may not even be to do with secularism; maybe it's just a general pessimism in human nature. At any rate, though, it is at odds with the central idea of the book. Unless, of course, it's entirely inspired by the time Dickens met gaseous aliens with the Doctor, which is also entirely possible.
[8 days until Christmas!]
After all, Scrooge changes entirely by the end of A Christmas Carol. In fairness, this is not an easily-overlooked detail; the entire point of the book is that Scrooge changes his ways (partly because he's faced with eternal damnation, it must be said). In point of fact, Dickens tells us that: "Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh, and little heeded them; for he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset". Presumably it is the descendants of these easily-amused folk who now think of Scrooge only as a mean-tempered miser. We're also told in the book's final paragraph that "[h]e had no further intercourse with Spirits", which is rather comforting (if a little troubling in its implications).
Despite Scrooge's change (he even sings; why yes, I am treating the Muppets version as definitive. Why not?), the idea of him is so bound up with the notion of miserliness that we even have adjectives such as "Scrooge-like"; he is the very form of mean-spiritedness, in the popular imagination. This can be seen, for example, in a recent Meteor ad, where the boss of the ad's protagonist (such as he is) is compared to Scrooge. Part of this probably comes from Dickens's propensity to attribute names to characters which seem to fit their character's personality; it must be said that the name "Scrooge" does sound more like a tight-fisted moneylender than a generous, kindly celebrant of Christmas.
The fact is that A Christmas Carol is very bound up with Christian notions of sin and (more importantly) redemption. Now, I'm not one of these people who is obsessed with the whole myth of "Winterval" and the secularisation of Christmas, you'll be pleased to hear. It is true, though, that society in general has become more secular since the publication of the book; it's not surprising, therefore, that it has acquired a different emphasis in the popular imagination. It remains a morality tale, of course, but it seems almost as though the focus has shifted to Scrooge as a "what not to do" type figure, rather than an ideal of redemption to aspire towards. This may not even be to do with secularism; maybe it's just a general pessimism in human nature. At any rate, though, it is at odds with the central idea of the book. Unless, of course, it's entirely inspired by the time Dickens met gaseous aliens with the Doctor, which is also entirely possible.
[8 days until Christmas!]
16 December 2010
Alas, Poor Country...
So, we're suffering through the post-Budget blues (there should be a song. Well, apart from this one). To make things worse, we've been buried in snow for the last couple of weeks, and there's more on the way. A general election is hovering tantalisingly out of reach. The economy may have just returned to growth, but at lower levels than expected. Overall, the country's in pretty bad shape, and everyone agrees. How nice, then, to see the BBC returning to old stereotypes in this article. What picture would best represent the state of Ireland's economy? Special offers on lager from SuperValu. Cheers, BBC. We appreciate your solidarity in this time of need. Want to slip in something about us blowing up pubs too while you're at it? Maybe something about Cromwell; I don't think that particular wound has been milked enough since the mid-17th century (yes, I know it's a mixed metaphor. Have you never milked a wound? You get some good blood).
Ah well. There's one thing that can help....
[9 days until Christmas!]
Ah well. There's one thing that can help....
[9 days until Christmas!]
12 December 2010
Alternative Christmas Song No. 2
'Christmas' – The Who
I spoke before, in my previous post on this subject, about songs that make us think of the needy at Christmas. Well, who could be needier than a deaf, dumb and blind child? This song is from the great 1969 album Tommy (and also the inferior 1975 Ken Russell film), and deals with how Tommy is so deprived, he doesn't even know about Christmas. This leads to the great refrain "Tommy, can you hear me?" (he can't, of course, but the father doesn't stop trying, bless his heart). The song also, incidentally, contains one of the random references to pinball ("playing poxy pinball...") that Pete Townshend inserted into the album at the last moment to gain the support of a prominent pinball-loving music critic (another was the whole song, 'Pinball Wizard', written in an afternoon and initially despised by Townshend, which became one of the band's biggest hits). Anyway, enough from me; click on the link, if you haven't already, and be entertained by Messrs. Daltrey, Townshend, Entwistle and Moon.
[13 days until Christmas!]
I spoke before, in my previous post on this subject, about songs that make us think of the needy at Christmas. Well, who could be needier than a deaf, dumb and blind child? This song is from the great 1969 album Tommy (and also the inferior 1975 Ken Russell film), and deals with how Tommy is so deprived, he doesn't even know about Christmas. This leads to the great refrain "Tommy, can you hear me?" (he can't, of course, but the father doesn't stop trying, bless his heart). The song also, incidentally, contains one of the random references to pinball ("playing poxy pinball...") that Pete Townshend inserted into the album at the last moment to gain the support of a prominent pinball-loving music critic (another was the whole song, 'Pinball Wizard', written in an afternoon and initially despised by Townshend, which became one of the band's biggest hits). Anyway, enough from me; click on the link, if you haven't already, and be entertained by Messrs. Daltrey, Townshend, Entwistle and Moon.
[13 days until Christmas!]
07 December 2010
A Close Encounter with Genius
On Sunday the 5th of December 2010, a date that will live in fame, I saw Arcade Fire live in Dublin for the second time in my life. I could use words like "incandescent" or "transcendental" to describe the experience, and I probably will. The fact is that it was nothing more or less than the best concert of any kind to which I've ever been. Its closest competitor? The last time they played here in October 2007, in the Phoenix Park.
For such a cold day, the journey there was easy enough, thanks to the Luas. I arrived at the O2 midway through Devendra Banhart's set, which I was actually rather sorry I missed; I understand it was worth seeing. Vampire Weekend were the other support band; they put on a fairly decent show, although I wasn't quite as enamoured with them as other people seemed to be. My first thought when the Sultans of Sound themselves came on stage was that Vampire Weekend were probably weeping backstage, suffering by comparison. In fairness, just about anyone would have been.
That brings me on rather neatly to Arcade Fire's own set. I thought the setlist was ideal; about half of The Suburbs, three from Neon Bible ('Keep the Car Running', 'Intervention' and 'No Cars Go') and seven from Funeral (including my favourite Arcade Fire song of all, 'Crown of Love'). The set as a whole was about 100 minutes long, which was more or less ideal; there were a couple of notable absentees from the setlist, but it would a bit ungrateful to complain about that after an absolute blinder of a concert. The songs bled into each other beautifully; a particular highlight was when 'Neighbourhood #3 (Power Out)' segued into 'Rebellion (Lies)' via a sonic assault of which Iggy Pop would have been proud.
This same sonic assault was backed up by a remarkable level of energy among the band members. Will Butler was particularly insane, often spending whole songs banging a snare drum which wasn't miced up (he was, at least, in time). Meanwhile, when Régine Chassagne was on lead vocal duties (notably during particular highlight 'Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)'), she danced elegantly around the stage, resembling nothing so much as a child at play. As for Win Butler, he made an effort to rival his brother and wife, often coming right up to the audience (unlike the last time, he didn't do a stage dive; it's rarely a good idea when you're six-and-a-half feet tall). As usual, the band seamlessly swapped instruments throughout the show; I shudder to think how much rehearsal time must have been necessary to pull off such a feat.
I've always been impressed with the sound quality in the O2, and Sunday was no different. In fact, it was probably the best quality of sound I've ever heard there, which is saying something. Every note was clear, crisp and, not least, loud. In addition to this, the show had an excellent visual component. Cameramen at the sides of the stage captured live images of the band, sometimes focusing on individual members, sometimes providing a wider picture. Whoever was controlling these images did a fantastic job, particularly when they started playing around with opacity so that band members appeared to pass through one another.
In short, the show was both incandescent and transcendental (see?). I spoke to a number of friends about it afterwards. Some had seen the band live before; others hadn't. All were in agreement that the concert had been remarkable, and one of the best they'd ever been to. I've been listening to almost nothing but Arcade Fire for the last two days. My love for them had, I confess, lapsed a little in the last couple of years, but it has been reawakened with a vengeance now. Arcade Fire are coming for YOU. You should be glad of it.
Oh, incidentally, if you have Google Chrome, open it up (if it's not already open) and go to www.thewildernessdowntown.com. It's quite something.
[18 days until Christmas!]
For such a cold day, the journey there was easy enough, thanks to the Luas. I arrived at the O2 midway through Devendra Banhart's set, which I was actually rather sorry I missed; I understand it was worth seeing. Vampire Weekend were the other support band; they put on a fairly decent show, although I wasn't quite as enamoured with them as other people seemed to be. My first thought when the Sultans of Sound themselves came on stage was that Vampire Weekend were probably weeping backstage, suffering by comparison. In fairness, just about anyone would have been.
That brings me on rather neatly to Arcade Fire's own set. I thought the setlist was ideal; about half of The Suburbs, three from Neon Bible ('Keep the Car Running', 'Intervention' and 'No Cars Go') and seven from Funeral (including my favourite Arcade Fire song of all, 'Crown of Love'). The set as a whole was about 100 minutes long, which was more or less ideal; there were a couple of notable absentees from the setlist, but it would a bit ungrateful to complain about that after an absolute blinder of a concert. The songs bled into each other beautifully; a particular highlight was when 'Neighbourhood #3 (Power Out)' segued into 'Rebellion (Lies)' via a sonic assault of which Iggy Pop would have been proud.
This same sonic assault was backed up by a remarkable level of energy among the band members. Will Butler was particularly insane, often spending whole songs banging a snare drum which wasn't miced up (he was, at least, in time). Meanwhile, when Régine Chassagne was on lead vocal duties (notably during particular highlight 'Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)'), she danced elegantly around the stage, resembling nothing so much as a child at play. As for Win Butler, he made an effort to rival his brother and wife, often coming right up to the audience (unlike the last time, he didn't do a stage dive; it's rarely a good idea when you're six-and-a-half feet tall). As usual, the band seamlessly swapped instruments throughout the show; I shudder to think how much rehearsal time must have been necessary to pull off such a feat.
I've always been impressed with the sound quality in the O2, and Sunday was no different. In fact, it was probably the best quality of sound I've ever heard there, which is saying something. Every note was clear, crisp and, not least, loud. In addition to this, the show had an excellent visual component. Cameramen at the sides of the stage captured live images of the band, sometimes focusing on individual members, sometimes providing a wider picture. Whoever was controlling these images did a fantastic job, particularly when they started playing around with opacity so that band members appeared to pass through one another.
In short, the show was both incandescent and transcendental (see?). I spoke to a number of friends about it afterwards. Some had seen the band live before; others hadn't. All were in agreement that the concert had been remarkable, and one of the best they'd ever been to. I've been listening to almost nothing but Arcade Fire for the last two days. My love for them had, I confess, lapsed a little in the last couple of years, but it has been reawakened with a vengeance now. Arcade Fire are coming for YOU. You should be glad of it.
Oh, incidentally, if you have Google Chrome, open it up (if it's not already open) and go to www.thewildernessdowntown.com. It's quite something.
[18 days until Christmas!]
04 December 2010
Seasonal Entertainment
As it's that time of year again, and I did mention before that I'd be doing an article to do with Christmas songs, I present to you my analysis of some of the most notable ones, and particularly their videos. There are some notable exceptions: some of them just don't have much to comment on, which is why Slade, for instance, escape comment. I mentioned before that I might do an article on Ronan Keating and Moya Brennan's travesty of a cover of 'Fairytale of New York'; it didn't occur to me that that would involve having to actually listen to the bloody thing. Same goes for 'Christmas Shoes' (I actually turned off the radio yesterday when I heard that muckheap of a song coming on). As such, neither of these hideous Antichrists of songs will be getting a write-up here.
I'll start with one of the usual suspects: Wizzard's 'I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day'. Now, I should point out that I'm physically incapable of disliking this song; it's rare for me to describe a song as "fun", but such is the case with this one. I only realised recently what a brilliant line "When the snowman brings the snow" is (which is presumably why it's repeated ad infinitum). Nonetheless, there are a few things that always strike me about the video. First of all, have a look at the bass player. It would seem that, having saved Middle-Earth, Legolas decided to grow a beard and join a mid-70s band. According to Wikipedia, he also changed his name to Rick Price. Next, have a look at the drummer at the front (the one with the magnificent hair). For some reason, I always wonder if he's a distant cousin of Ringo Starr; something in the gaze, I daresay. He also does a wonderful Harpo Marx impression around the 0.50 mark. Third in my series of band members is the pianist. Now, this fellow doesn't appear on camera for most of the video, but when he does, it's immediately apparent why. Stop reading this, and have a look at 1.20 in the video. Then come back. Done that? Good. Now you'll know what I mean when I ask WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON?! He genuinely scares me. Every time I watch this video, I question why on Earth he was allowed near children. According to Wiki, again, he left the band soon after, which really worries me. Of course, Roy Wood demands a kiss off a small girl at 4.05, but that's nice and innocent, even if he does attempt to kick her a few seconds later.
Next, another favourite of mine: 'Stop the Cavalry', by Jona Lewie. Not nearly enough Christmas songs start with a bugle. Like Waits's 'Christmas Card...', it's a nicely poignant song. There's one aspect of the video that's always mildly distressed me, though. The video cuts between Jona Lewie out on the battlefield singing his heart out, and Miss Mary Bradley sitting at home waiting for him. At 1.45, though, he apparently gets shot... and we never see him again. Of course, he has just rather foolishly said "If I get home, live to tell the tale", which is asking for trouble. Still, though, I would rather like to assume he survives the war; that's a mildly depressing thought for Christmas.
Actually, there was a whole series of depressing songs on The Daily Dish last year; I submitted 'Fairytale of New York' (please try to ignore the stupid, adversarial "Think this is bad? Look at MY submission!" tone of my e-mail), which a lot of readers disagreed with, saying the song was really about two people staying together no matter what. I actually agreed with that; I just wanted to open up the song to a wider American audience. Someone also submitted 'Christmas Card...' – good for them. I believe there was also a post on the incredibly depressing original lyrics of 'Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas' (which, unfortunately, I can't seem to find); here's the Wiki on the subject, though.
On a less depressing note, we have 'Little Drummer Boy/Peace on Earth'. Now, this song has recently been covered by The Priests and Shane MacGowan. That said, their version seems to mainly consist of The Priests singing both parts of the song while Shane mumbles in the background and (from 2.05 onwards) gets held up by two of the fathers. The more famous version, of course, is by Bing Crosby and David Bowie, recorded in 1977, only a month before Crosby's death. My sister likes to complain about this video, since the two talk about Christmas until 1.50; almost half the video. I also rather love the description on this particular video; it seems that the two really didn't know anything about each other. Maybe all that talking wasn't scripted?
Bowie mentions John Lennon in that video, which brings me neatly on to Paul McCartney (look at me segue!). I haven't much to say about 'Wonderful Christmas Time', especially as I've never really thought much of it. I much prefer Peter Serafinowicz's 'Sexual Christmas Time', which I would rather like to be released this year. Listen to the two back-to-back; it's educational. Anyway, the song I really wanted to discuss is 'Pipes of Peace'. I'm guessing the first 20 seconds of this video are the result of Paul having been owed a favour by the Doctor Who sound effects team. The video deals with the Christmas Truce of 1914, when German and British soldiers stopped fighting to sing carols and play football. Unfortunately, the truce was unofficial and short-lived; it didn't outlast Christmas Day in most parts of the Western Front, and it didn't even occur in a lot of places. Of course, according to Sir Paul, it actually lasted about a minute (though that may be just to cut down on having to have two versions of him onscreen for too long).
Christmas tends to be associated with dodgy woollen jumpers, particularly among fans of the Late Late Toy Show. One of the finest examples I've ever seen is in the video for Shakin' Stevens's 'Merry Christmas Everyone', which appears to be of stars and... some kind of red explosion? The video also features a rather frightening Santa, who can glimpsed at 0.50. I'm not entirely convinced he has a face. He also appears to use child labour; they may look like they're playing, but he also appears to be showing them how to manufacture toys in the correct manner. To top all this off, there's the creature (woman? Elf? Zombie?) riding in the sleigh with our friend Shakin'. She gazes wistfully around, smiling blankly, but we know she's weeping inside.
Now we come to my dear friend Cliff Richard. If any of you have the misfortune to have a copy of his calendar in your home every year, you will understand my pain. As such, it's always very enticing to see him wandering around at the edge of a cliff (ho ho! Cliff! Do you get it?) in the video for 'Saviour's Day'. No matter how many times I see it, I always think "Maybe this time he'll fall. Just maybe..." Optimism is a wonderful thing. His gesturing is top-notch as ever in this video; lots of clenched fists and fingers being pointed skywards. Added to this, yet again some poor children are forced to be in a video for a Christmas song. These ones have to stand around in cold sea winds while a middle-aged man prances around. I bet he was patronising towards them too. He seems the sort.
This brings me neatly on to the king of all dodgy Christmas videos. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin...
Let's not mince words: 'Mistletoe and Wine' is an awful song. It's played in pubs at closing time to get people out. The video, though, completely makes up for that in its comedy value. It begins with Cliff standing outside a small child's bedroom window: interesting. I really can't make paedophile jokes about Cliff, though (although Chris Morris probably could); he just seems too asexual (though, according to The Day Today, he did once become pregnant). At 1.15, he seems to imply that he's being controlled by the Master, through the odd medium of a small candle. Next comes one of the finest freeze-frames in history, at 1.38, where Cliff does a brief Fonzie pose before passing between the two groups of carollers. Ridiculously fake-looking snow starts to fall on old-fashioned tin soldiers come to life, and Cliff moves back towards the camera for some more posing. 2.17 is another fine freeze-frame, where Cliff briefly ponders a career as a professional boxer. A gong is bashed, and the real genius ensues. From 2.25, Cliff is in the background, presumably so that he doesn't damage any filming equipment as he swings his arms (and his entire weight) from side to side. The choir are a few paces behind him, presumably so that they aren't damaged. Around 2.35, Cliff almost overbalances a couple of times, and decides to cut down on his dancing. Another wonderful freeze-frame comes at 2.52, as he tries to act cool as the soldiers pass him. For the last minute or so, Cliff tries to make himself warm. Finally, at 3.45, the small child from the beginning has come outside to stop the scary man and his choir from singing while she's trying to sleep. The scary man responds by waving in a disturbing manner.
I daresay that's about it. Why yes, I HAVE seen these videos far too many times. Still, they entertain me every year; I enjoy expanding on these various comments I have, which I've built up over several Christmases. Yet another thing I love about Christmas, then.
[21 days until Christmas!]
I'll start with one of the usual suspects: Wizzard's 'I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day'. Now, I should point out that I'm physically incapable of disliking this song; it's rare for me to describe a song as "fun", but such is the case with this one. I only realised recently what a brilliant line "When the snowman brings the snow" is (which is presumably why it's repeated ad infinitum). Nonetheless, there are a few things that always strike me about the video. First of all, have a look at the bass player. It would seem that, having saved Middle-Earth, Legolas decided to grow a beard and join a mid-70s band. According to Wikipedia, he also changed his name to Rick Price. Next, have a look at the drummer at the front (the one with the magnificent hair). For some reason, I always wonder if he's a distant cousin of Ringo Starr; something in the gaze, I daresay. He also does a wonderful Harpo Marx impression around the 0.50 mark. Third in my series of band members is the pianist. Now, this fellow doesn't appear on camera for most of the video, but when he does, it's immediately apparent why. Stop reading this, and have a look at 1.20 in the video. Then come back. Done that? Good. Now you'll know what I mean when I ask WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON?! He genuinely scares me. Every time I watch this video, I question why on Earth he was allowed near children. According to Wiki, again, he left the band soon after, which really worries me. Of course, Roy Wood demands a kiss off a small girl at 4.05, but that's nice and innocent, even if he does attempt to kick her a few seconds later.
Next, another favourite of mine: 'Stop the Cavalry', by Jona Lewie. Not nearly enough Christmas songs start with a bugle. Like Waits's 'Christmas Card...', it's a nicely poignant song. There's one aspect of the video that's always mildly distressed me, though. The video cuts between Jona Lewie out on the battlefield singing his heart out, and Miss Mary Bradley sitting at home waiting for him. At 1.45, though, he apparently gets shot... and we never see him again. Of course, he has just rather foolishly said "If I get home, live to tell the tale", which is asking for trouble. Still, though, I would rather like to assume he survives the war; that's a mildly depressing thought for Christmas.
Actually, there was a whole series of depressing songs on The Daily Dish last year; I submitted 'Fairytale of New York' (please try to ignore the stupid, adversarial "Think this is bad? Look at MY submission!" tone of my e-mail), which a lot of readers disagreed with, saying the song was really about two people staying together no matter what. I actually agreed with that; I just wanted to open up the song to a wider American audience. Someone also submitted 'Christmas Card...' – good for them. I believe there was also a post on the incredibly depressing original lyrics of 'Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas' (which, unfortunately, I can't seem to find); here's the Wiki on the subject, though.
On a less depressing note, we have 'Little Drummer Boy/Peace on Earth'. Now, this song has recently been covered by The Priests and Shane MacGowan. That said, their version seems to mainly consist of The Priests singing both parts of the song while Shane mumbles in the background and (from 2.05 onwards) gets held up by two of the fathers. The more famous version, of course, is by Bing Crosby and David Bowie, recorded in 1977, only a month before Crosby's death. My sister likes to complain about this video, since the two talk about Christmas until 1.50; almost half the video. I also rather love the description on this particular video; it seems that the two really didn't know anything about each other. Maybe all that talking wasn't scripted?
Bowie mentions John Lennon in that video, which brings me neatly on to Paul McCartney (look at me segue!). I haven't much to say about 'Wonderful Christmas Time', especially as I've never really thought much of it. I much prefer Peter Serafinowicz's 'Sexual Christmas Time', which I would rather like to be released this year. Listen to the two back-to-back; it's educational. Anyway, the song I really wanted to discuss is 'Pipes of Peace'. I'm guessing the first 20 seconds of this video are the result of Paul having been owed a favour by the Doctor Who sound effects team. The video deals with the Christmas Truce of 1914, when German and British soldiers stopped fighting to sing carols and play football. Unfortunately, the truce was unofficial and short-lived; it didn't outlast Christmas Day in most parts of the Western Front, and it didn't even occur in a lot of places. Of course, according to Sir Paul, it actually lasted about a minute (though that may be just to cut down on having to have two versions of him onscreen for too long).
Christmas tends to be associated with dodgy woollen jumpers, particularly among fans of the Late Late Toy Show. One of the finest examples I've ever seen is in the video for Shakin' Stevens's 'Merry Christmas Everyone', which appears to be of stars and... some kind of red explosion? The video also features a rather frightening Santa, who can glimpsed at 0.50. I'm not entirely convinced he has a face. He also appears to use child labour; they may look like they're playing, but he also appears to be showing them how to manufacture toys in the correct manner. To top all this off, there's the creature (woman? Elf? Zombie?) riding in the sleigh with our friend Shakin'. She gazes wistfully around, smiling blankly, but we know she's weeping inside.
Now we come to my dear friend Cliff Richard. If any of you have the misfortune to have a copy of his calendar in your home every year, you will understand my pain. As such, it's always very enticing to see him wandering around at the edge of a cliff (ho ho! Cliff! Do you get it?) in the video for 'Saviour's Day'. No matter how many times I see it, I always think "Maybe this time he'll fall. Just maybe..." Optimism is a wonderful thing. His gesturing is top-notch as ever in this video; lots of clenched fists and fingers being pointed skywards. Added to this, yet again some poor children are forced to be in a video for a Christmas song. These ones have to stand around in cold sea winds while a middle-aged man prances around. I bet he was patronising towards them too. He seems the sort.
This brings me neatly on to the king of all dodgy Christmas videos. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin...
Let's not mince words: 'Mistletoe and Wine' is an awful song. It's played in pubs at closing time to get people out. The video, though, completely makes up for that in its comedy value. It begins with Cliff standing outside a small child's bedroom window: interesting. I really can't make paedophile jokes about Cliff, though (although Chris Morris probably could); he just seems too asexual (though, according to The Day Today, he did once become pregnant). At 1.15, he seems to imply that he's being controlled by the Master, through the odd medium of a small candle. Next comes one of the finest freeze-frames in history, at 1.38, where Cliff does a brief Fonzie pose before passing between the two groups of carollers. Ridiculously fake-looking snow starts to fall on old-fashioned tin soldiers come to life, and Cliff moves back towards the camera for some more posing. 2.17 is another fine freeze-frame, where Cliff briefly ponders a career as a professional boxer. A gong is bashed, and the real genius ensues. From 2.25, Cliff is in the background, presumably so that he doesn't damage any filming equipment as he swings his arms (and his entire weight) from side to side. The choir are a few paces behind him, presumably so that they aren't damaged. Around 2.35, Cliff almost overbalances a couple of times, and decides to cut down on his dancing. Another wonderful freeze-frame comes at 2.52, as he tries to act cool as the soldiers pass him. For the last minute or so, Cliff tries to make himself warm. Finally, at 3.45, the small child from the beginning has come outside to stop the scary man and his choir from singing while she's trying to sleep. The scary man responds by waving in a disturbing manner.
I daresay that's about it. Why yes, I HAVE seen these videos far too many times. Still, they entertain me every year; I enjoy expanding on these various comments I have, which I've built up over several Christmases. Yet another thing I love about Christmas, then.
[21 days until Christmas!]
01 December 2010
Alternative Christmas Song No. 1
As it's the 1st of December and the Christmas season has officially started, I thought I'd mark the occasion by beginning a new series. As previously intimated, I rather like Christmas music, so this will be dedicated to those Christmas songs that lie just off the beaten track. I'll start with a personal favourite:
Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis – Tom Waits (this version also has Waits singing Silent Night; always a bonus)
As I always mention when this song is brought up, a few years back, when downloads started being taken into account for the charts, there was a campaign to make this Christmas Number One. Sadly, it didn't pan out; I'd have loved to hear radio stations forced to play this. This song is perhaps even more poignant than Fairytale of New York. Ignore the insipid crap of Band Aid; if you want to think about those less fortunate, this is the song to go for.
[24 days until Christmas!]
Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis – Tom Waits (this version also has Waits singing Silent Night; always a bonus)
As I always mention when this song is brought up, a few years back, when downloads started being taken into account for the charts, there was a campaign to make this Christmas Number One. Sadly, it didn't pan out; I'd have loved to hear radio stations forced to play this. This song is perhaps even more poignant than Fairytale of New York. Ignore the insipid crap of Band Aid; if you want to think about those less fortunate, this is the song to go for.
[24 days until Christmas!]
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