Merry Christmas Johnny Mathis album cover

Johnny Mathis: The Calm At the Center of the Storm

Merry Christmas Johnny Mathis album coverIn a year that’s been absolutely bonkers, there’s something extra special about turning to the comfort of your holiday record collection this time around. It’s like a little slice of normalcy in the midst of all the crazy.
 
While picking out music for this year’s Holiday Sing-Along Spectacular, this album — Merry Christmas by Johnny Mathis — stood out as the next title to be featured in this long-neglected section of the HPZ webpage.
 
First, a reminiscence for you: 
 
Some years ago, my friend Ramona and I ventured over to Milwaukee to see Johnny Mathis in concert. Few of the artists we enjoy on HPZ are alive today, let alone performing, so the gift of being able to see such legends live — especially when they’ve still “got it” — is an occasion never to miss. At this particular concert, we were lucky enough to score front-row seats and even shake his hand.
 
One part of the concert included a bossa-nova medley featuring guitarist Gil Reigers alone and Mathis. Though it was probably the 500th time they performed that medley together, something about that performance was magical. Mathis and Reigers were on the same wavelength, and there was a “flow” among them that is hard to define but you know it when you hear it.
 
I was reminded of this as I flipped my Merry Christmas album to Side B and found myself riveted by Mathis’ take on “O Holy Night,” with arrangements and orchestral direction by Percy Faith. 
 
“O Holy Night” is a song that stands out in our cultural Christmas songbook as one of the most spiritual of carols, even though it was frowned on by church authorities when it first debuted in 1847*. When arranged just right, it builds upon itself with increasing power and emotion. It evokes a hymnal quality, while other carols centered on Christ, Christmas, “the Savior’s birth,” et cetera — the holiest of Christian holidays — can still tend to be rather “meh” about it. 
 
In this track, recorded in 1958, you hear very clearly the “flow” between singer and orchestra, as much as such a thing can be captured in a studio recording. This was particularly stunning to me knowing that the doctored-up studio magic that exists nowadays was not a thing back then. It is, in a word, divine.
 
This arrangement showcases Mathis’ incredible vocal talent, right to the very end where he softly sustains the final note with mastery. That’s after a flawless hand-off from Mathis to the orchestra, which goes on to take the melody in a flourish of strings and sentiment before returning the baton back to Mathis. It’s moving without being schmaltzy. 
 
To the French bishop who denounced this song for its “lack of musical taste and total absence of the spirit of religion” I say, “You died a century too soon, and I’m sorry you’re missing this.”
 
Meanwhile, the remainder of this album presents the very thing you’d enjoy from Johnny Mathis, particularly during a holiday season where rituals and routines have been upended. Percy Faith’s touch brings about small surprises that are unique to these arrangements— a sentimental take on the Elvis Presley’s “Blue Christmas,” an opening preamble from a forlorn loved one that sets the stage for “I’ll Be Home For Christmas,” and an ethereal instrumental setting for those who are “dreaming of a White Christmas.”
 
While there are several Johnny Mathis Christmas albums/compilations out there, this one — his very first — is worthy of a place in your 2020 holiday collection.
 

COMPLETE TRACK LIST

SIDE A
1. Winter Wonderland
2. The Christmas Song
3. Sleigh Ride
4. Blue Christmas
5. I’ll Be Home For Christmas
6. White Christmas

SIDE B
1. O Holy Night
2. What Child Is This?
3. The First Noel
4. Silver Bells
5. It Came Upon A Midnight Clear
12. Silent Night, Holy Night

Merry Christmas Johnny Mathis album back cover
 
 
*Reader’s Digest Merry Christmas Songbook (2003)

Ella Fitzgerald’s Christmas

Ella Fitzgerald's Christmas album cover Anyone wondering what Ella Fitzgerald’s Christmas has to offer can simply stop and examine the album cover:

Quiet, reverent, divine.

Recorded July 17 and 18, 1967 and released later that year, this is the second and final Christmas album Ella Fitzgerald ever recorded. Unlike its predecessor, which was almost entirely secular, this album features carols that can all be traced to religious roots.

The album runs just shy of a half-hour in length. Almost all the songs are familiar with just one track standing out as one I haven’t found anywhere else.

“Sleep, My Little Jesus” is a nineteenth-century hymn tucked on this album’s B-side. The song doesn’t pop up anywhere else in my somewhat extensive collection of classic Christmas recordings nor in my preliminary online research of major recording artists’ holiday albums.

The words were written by William Channing Gannett, known as “the father on American Unitarianism,” who put them to paper in 1882 for a Sunday School in St. Paul, Minnesota. Here they’re set to a lullaby composed by Adam Geibel.

Modestly holding a hymnal in front of a stain-glassed window, you might just imagine Ella Fitzgerald recording this album in the balcony of a church. Most tracks are arranged with sparse instrumentation. There could be a piano or guitar, sometimes a choir, but when a full orchestra is involved, it’s ever so respectfully placed in the back so the First Lady of Song may shine.

The original LP release features 13 tracks accompanied by Ralph Carmichael’s Chorus and Orchestra, but curious listeners can also find a 2006 digitally remastered release that tacks on 14 additional spiritual tracks which have no particular connection to Christmas.

If you’re looking for light background music while you do your holiday baking, decorating, or just relaxing, Ella Fitzgerald’s Christmas could be just the right fit.

Complete Track List

Side A
1. O Holy Night
2. It Came Upon A Midnight Clear
3. Hark! The Herald Angels Sing
4. Away In A Manger
5. Joy To the World
6. The First Noel
7. Silent Night

Side B
1. O’ Come All Ye Faithful
2. Sleep, My Little Jesus
3. Angels, We Have Heard On High
4. O Little Town Of Bethlehem
5. We Three Kings
6. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

REVIEW: Herb Alpert & Lani Hall at The Stoughton Opera House

Herb Alpert & Lani Hall program coverHerb Alpert has been known for “Going Places!” since the early ‘60s, when his Tijuana Brass made a worldwide splash.

On Friday, October 14, he rolled into the Stoughton Opera House for an intimate show featuring music spanning more than five decades, including fresh tracks from his new album with Lani Hall, Human Nature.

Now flanked by a jazz trio, Alpert and Hall had no trouble filling the hall with delightful, often innovative arrangements plucked from The Great American Songbook, the best of Brazilian jazz, and of course the Tijuana Brass repertoire.

Admittedly, it’s hard to walk into a Herb Alpert concert and expect to hear anything other than the bright and kitschy ‘Tijuana Brass’ sound. As if to openly defy these expectations, Alpert assumed position at center stage with a muted trumpet in hand.

After serenading the crowd with a couple of solo numbers, he and the band rolled into a divine rendition of “Bésame Mucho.” The piece was gratifying on its own, but just as it seemed time to wrap up, Lani Hall stepped up to the mic to join the party. Suddenly, new energy was infused into the hall as Hall showcased the rich voice that made her famous… and captured Alpert’s heart (the two have been married for 42 years).

Hall sang with Sérgio Mendes & Brasil ’66 for five years before cutting a solo album in 1972 and earning a Grammy Award for her 1985 album, Es Fácil Amar. This specialty in Brazilian jazz and Latin pop, coupled with Alpert’s bestselling discography which includes South Of the Border, !!Going Places!!, and Whipped Cream and Other Delights, makes for a the perfect collaboration.

Alpert conducted the concert more like a casual living room recital than a nationwide tour by a living legend. He encouraged audience members to freely ask questions of him and his band— musicians he and Hall consider close personal friends.

Among the questions:
“What type of mouthpiece do you use?”
(A custom-made mouthpiece modeled after the Bach 8B.)

“Tell us about your trumpet.”
(“The trumpet is just a piece of plumbing. The player is the instrument.”)

“Show us, then.”
(He aptly demonstrated in three bars that he, indeed, is the instrument.)

“Play ‘Ladyfingers’!”
(This technically went unanswered, but nope.)

Alpert was also asked about his mute, at which point he directly addressed the prevalent use of it that night. It did seem strange that he was playing into a microphone when an acoustic performance would probably hold up just fine in a smaller space like the Stoughton Opera House.

Take away the microphone, put down the mute, and it’ll all be good, right?

Well, it was his opinion that playing un-muted would lead to a distorted, overpowering, and generally less pleasing sound. Alright, I’ll buy that.

One unexpected turn occurred when the band began a song and Alpert launched into the delightful ballad “I’m Getting Sentimental Over You.” Played in a traditional jazz style, and much more romantic than his rendition on !!Going Places!!, it struck me that there was something different (almost too straightforward) about this song.

The musicians looked at each other as Alpert played. They shared eye contact and started laughing. One might chalk it up to the unspoken language musicians who spend entirely too much time together might share. I did, anyway.

It wasn’t until Alpert finished his first passage and turned the spotlight over for a piano solo that he looked back at his band. He leaned in toward the bassist. The two exchanged a few words and Alpert began shaking his head.

The song unfolded gorgeously and flawlessly. When it ended, Alpert put down his trumpet and spoke into the microphone: “I played the wrong song.”

In fact, he says he hasn’t played “I’m Getting Sentimental Over You” since 1968; he’s not sure where it came from or why he played it.

As if to hit the ‘Rewind’ button, the band took it from the top, restarted the same number, and this time Alpert joined along with the correct song, “On the Sunnyside Of the Street.” It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment that these two songs could be so similar that a musician plays one while the rest of the band plays the other— and the two continue onward without a hitch. The debacle was also a testament to the professionalism and versatility of all involved.

Other highlights from the show included a number of musical tributes, including the music of Carol King. This is where Hall was featured prominently, singing with a voice reminiscent of Barbra Streisand at times. Another set paid homage to Hall and Alpert’s friend Burt Bacharach. The audience was treated to original arrangements of The Beatles’ “The Fool On the Hill” and “Something.” Sinatra lovers would have enjoyed their take on “Fly Me To the Moon” and “Come Fly With Me.”

There was a brief foray across the greatest hits of The Tijuana Brass, from “The Spanish Flea” to “Whipped Cream” and “Bittersweet Samba.” It was probably the most effective way to give the audience what it wanted without spending too much time on this relatively brief era in Alpert’s long career.

The night ended on a finale paying tribute to Antônio Carlos Jobim. The medley featured top hits like “Desafinado” and “The Girl From Ipanema.” Those who didn’t get enough of “The Spanish Flea” during the earlier Tijuana Brass throwback got one last taste during “One Note Samba.” The irony of “One Note Samba” is that it’s actually quite difficult to sing, but Hall was on top of each syllable every step of the way.

Wrapping up on this tribute to the father of bossa nova was quite possibly the most brilliant move as it allowed all members of the five-piece ensemble to showcase their specialty one last time before taking the final bow.

At 81 and 71 years old, respectively, Alpert and Hall proved they haven’t slowed down with age. After packing in over 50 years’ worth of music into just two beautiful hours, the two shared hugs, kisses, and some snuggles on stage before the lights went out.

Two hours didn’t seem like enough time together. Let’s hope it won’t be long before the “Tijuana Taxi” cruises back into Wisconsin again.

5 Sinatra Songs You Gotta Hear!

In honor of Frank Sinatra’s centennial birthday, we asked friend of the show Paul Snyder to consider the entire Sinatra library and choose just five top hits he think we oughta hear.

Here’s what he chose:
#5. “Day By Day” from Swing Along with Me

Come Swing With Me Cover

#4. “You’re Getting To Be A Habit With Me” from Songs for Swingin’ Lovers

Songs For Swingin' Lovers cover
#3. “You’d Be So Easy To Love” from Ring-A-Ding-Ding!

Ring-A-Ding Ding! cover
#2. “Where Or When” from Sinatra at the Sands

Sinatra At the Sands cover
#1. “One For My Baby” from Sinatra Sings For Only the Lonely

Only the Lonely album cover

Only the Lonely album cover

5 Sinatra Songs You Gotta Hear: “One For My Baby”

1. “One For My Baby” (click title to listen)
From Sinatra Sings For Only the Lonely (Capitol, 1959)

I can’t remember if I bought the Only the Lonely album in my junior or senior year of high school, but I’m absolutely certain it was high school, because I’d read an article in a British magazine about how it was one of the greatest breakup albums of all time.

Being a melodramatic teenager who expunged the sorrows of unrequited love in front of a stereo system, I thought, “That’d be a good album to have just in case.” You can’t really listen to that album when you’re in a happy mood—it’s unbelievably heavy and it really saps you as a listener.

There are a few cuts on it I can take if I’m in a good mood, but as a whole, it’s best left to when you’re really in the dumps and you feel that you’re heart was created not for the purpose of pumping life through your body, but instead more of a toy for women to kick around at will.

I listened to this album A LOT my freshman year at Marquette, so you can imagine how much fun I was to be around in those days.

But as heartbreaking as it is, I can listen to “One For My Baby” any time. It’s kind of become a cliched song, and were it not for Green Day writing that “Good Riddance” song, it’d probably be more of a go-to for TV series finales. All the different versions that have been recorded and performed down the years are useless, ersatz takes on this.

This is the sound of absolute emotional devastation, but it’s delivered in such a way that it can comfort you when you’re sad and even reassure you if you’re happy.

By the way, it also just happens to have the greatest piano track ever laid down on record. It’s Frank’s show, but Bill Miller deserves a hell of a lot of credit for setting the stage for Frank’s best performance.

I remember my senior year of college, my roommate went through a pretty messy breakup with his long time girlfriend, and he spent a couple weeks listening to Maroon 5’s Songs About Jane. About two weeks into his retreat into a bruised psyche, he decided to talk music with me and told me of that idiotic album. “Man, you really listen to sad songs in a different way when you’ve been through what I’ve been through. This album’s really amazing. I feel like it’s about me.”

As he was one of my best friends, and I was acutely aware of the devastation and emotional turmoil he was fighting his way through, I started cursing him out for even suggesting that Maroon 5 could help anyone in any facet of life and moved toward my CD tower to find Only the Lonely.

I was going to give it to him as a way to wise up. But then I thought that if he’s dumb enough to elevate Maroon 5 to such a therapeutic level, he didn’t deserve to listen to Only the Lonely. So I told him to man up and get the f*ck out of my room. I’ll keep this one for myself, thanks.

Rookie.

This post was authored by Paul Snyder.