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Hark! the Herald Cashiers Ring

By Eric B. Fried and Susie Spring

Christmas. The day He was born. Santa Claus. Peace on Earth, goodwill toward people, spend money. Want to drown out those obnoxiously cheery-faced little carollers outside in the street? Try playing some records. We went sleighing over hills and dales, to grandma's and the North Pole, to find the best Christmas albums for you. And we found them in a stocking over a big fireplace somewhere in Greenland. But we lost them. So we reviewed these albums instead.

Merry Snoopy's Christmas

Definitely the "Sergeant Pepper" of Christmas albums, this one will be remembered years from now as the time Snoopy first turned on and went psychedelic. Maybe it was there all along and we never noticed, never wanted to believe it. Along with that little roundheaded kid and the Great Pumpkin and the Red Baron and Woodstock, this puppy has been on a strange trip for quite a while. But this time he lets it all hang out.

Consider: the album is ostensibly a story, a kind of opera, like "Sergeant Pepper." Everything sounds happy and clean and pure and good, but listen to what they're saying and the heavy drug overtones come through unmistakably. On "Kinda Looks Like Christmas," for example, you get:

Little heads are making plans To take a trip to Santaland Everything is green and red and silver

Wow, sit in the back with your head in the clouds and you're gone, man. Space out. Om.

Sorry. The album does tell the story of Snoopy fighting the Red Baron at the climax of World War I, but we stopped following it somewhere. You've heard it before, and you don't care. Listen to the great sound effects: whole squadrons of fighter planes taking off overhead, artillery shells bursting, Snoopy keeping warm behind the lines with the German frauleins (thanks to Donna Summer here), great aerial dogfights. Like Sensurround, only smaller. And quieter.

The music is charming, heart-warming, and endearing. The main singer, who does the Snoopy parts, sounds exactly like the lead from Pure Prairie League--very clean-cut, young, rural, smalltown America. Lots of fun. Clever lyrics, like

10,20,30,40,50 or more The Bloody Red Baron was rolling up the score 80 men died trying to end that spree Of the Bloody Red Baron of Germany.

Snoopy finally downs the bastard. Run him for President. Hell, it got Eisenhower elected. And at least Snoopy might clamp down on Iran.

Bing Crosby, A Holiday Toast

"Bing is Dead, Long Live Bing." If you play the album backwards at 78 r.p.m. and wear the headphones upside down, you can clearly hear this tribute to the king of orange juice commercials. Say, how old is Bob Hope anyway?

Inspiring. We all know Bing is dead. It's hard to listen to the music of a dead man, especially because on this album, he sounds so alive, just like he almost did when he was alive. He could be standing right next to you. Same crooning voice, sincerely telling you to "do drugs"--which you hear in the background if you play the cut "When You Trim Your Christmas Tree" super loud and with the bass turned down.

But go ahead, give this album to your mother. She won't hear what those tricky engineers did to the majority of the cuts. Played at its normal speed, A Holiday Toast is heartwarming, charming, endearing....Put it on while you hang up the mistletoe. It will make you want to kiss your maiden aunt right on the mouth. That's how mellow this is.

Then when no one is listening, play "A Time to Be Jolly" and hear Bing say, "I am a corpse." Kinda gives you the shivers, because he sounds so alive.

Stevie Wonder, Someday at Christmas

From the man who just came out with The Secret Life of Plants--which is enough to make you stop and think right there--this album has definite religious undertones. First Dylan--now Wonder is born again? Believe it. (God is Love, Love is Blind, Stevie Wonder is Blind, so Stevie Wonder is...You figure it out.)

As Christmas children's music goes, this stuff is pretty funky, definitely Motown Santa. Even some semi-'50s tunes. Stevie puts his heart into these songs, singing verses like "pa-rum-pum-pum-pum, ra-pa-pa-pum" on "The Little Drummer Boy" with so much feeling that you almost think he means it. Or on the title cut, where he sings, "This is Santa's big scene. It's Christmas time in the city." Wow. Took my breath away.

But try as you might, you can't focus on that incredible voice enough to drown out the little twinkling bells in the background, the familiar diddly-shit Christmas muzak heard in stores everywhere as the subliminal message underneath chants, "Buy Buy Buy."

You have to listen carefully to get the Jesus symbolism, but it's there. "Ave Maria" is a highly veiled reference to Mary. "The Day That Love Began" refers to a manger in Bethlehem that sounds suspiciously like the one Jesus rented for his debut. And there are angels doing background vocals like so many divine Pips. Wonder's own cuts at the beginning and end are good. The rest of the album sucks.

The Mormon Tabernacle Choir, Joy to the World

Morally uplifting, inspiring, spiritually refreshing. Yea, right. About as exciting as Donny and Marie smiling as they give a tenth of their fortunes to the Salt Lake City hierarchy. The Mormons are the original cultists, a century before Moon hit town. Some guy in New York meets two angels in a meadow and leads thousands of submissive followers across the continent to eat locusts and practice bigamy in the deserts of Utah. Not everyone's cup of tea.

But if you're into The Choir Invisible, this is the nearest thing to a recording of thousands of cherubim and seraphim singing their little hearts out on Judgment Day. All sweetness and light. But if you're not ready to die yet, try something a little more down to earth.

Pope John Paul II Sings at the Festival of Sacrosong

This year's biggest selling album, "Pope John Paul II Sings at Sacrosong," with its cheerful tunes and bright singing, could enfuse even the Ayatollah Khomeini with the Christmas spirit. But while the album is beautifully packaged and perfect as a Christmas gift and momento of this year's papal visit, the title is deceiving--the Pope hardly sings at all. In fact, he doesn't sing once on the entire second side. It's hard not to fell cheated, especially since God only knows where the profits go.

And it's in Polish. This is a problem. True, translations to all the songs appear inside of the fold-out album cover. So what? Yes, yes, the words are very nice in English (even though we already know how the Lord's Prayer goes).

The music is charming, heart-warming and endearing, carrying the album, especially when the Pope isn't singing. Grin and bear it in the Christian spirit. Appreciate it for the moments when you can hear the Pope warbling away. He has a very appealing voice...charming...he's especially hear-warming and endearing during "On a December Night." A very convincing account of the birth of Jesus.

Merry Christmas from Sesame Street

The Greatest. This is the greatest Christmas album ever recorded. The "Apocalypse Now" of Christmas records. The Mazarati of funny Christmas records. The Taj Mahal of funny, inexpensive Christmas records. The Dom Perignon of funny, inexpensive Christmas records based on TV shows.

Merry Christmas from Sesame Street. You might feel stupid buying it. Go ahead, feel stupid. It's good for you. The girl at the Coop smiles at you. Ha-ha, you chuckle in defense, blushing. Ha-ha is right because this album is hysterical. It's also charming, endearing and heartwarming--really.

The sentiments are so right on. You know it's gotta be amazing when, on the first side, Oscar the Grouch belts out a convincing "I Hate Christmas." When he sees Santa coming, he sings, "Who needs that great big noise? I tell him where to put his toys."

Cookie Monster, Big Bird, Ernie and Bert. "My little sister watches it..." So buy the album for her. Let her reap the joy from Sesame Street's own "The Twelve Days of Christmas." The first day: the cookie monster gets "one delicious Coooookie." The ninth day: Big Bird gets "nine pounds of bird seed." Ha-ha, but no--there's a lot of pathos here. Please God, Ernie wants six rubber duckies...

O.K., so the lyrics aren't exactly insightful, but there's no muzak here and there is a lot of spirit. It will make you want to turn on the television to see them all in person so you can wave at the box and wish them a Merry Christmas, tell them that you love them. Ha-ha.

And buy the million other Sesame Street products. Oh boy! And then we can watch Captain Kangaroo. And Mr. Rogers. And watch the picture on the screen fade into a little tiny dot and then linger on forever before finally dying. And dull. So we'll watch the Christmas tree lights until TV comes on again in the morning. Merry Christmas

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