Ilene Beckerman Shares Snark and Insight in Makeovers at the Beauty Counter of Happiness

I’ve never been much into makeovers. From the ten-minute makeovers that are a weekly feature on the local news to the makeover that allegedly won Clay Aiken his spot in the semifinals during the second season of American Idol, they’ve always seemed to superficial to me. It seems that Ilene Beckerman, author of Makeovers at the Beauty Counter of Happiness, came to a similar conclusion in the preparations for her elementary school reunion though she is far more fashion-conscious than I ever was.

My friend Libbie lent me this pithy book, which is just over a hundred pages long and feels considerably shorter because it is filled with white space, squiggly illustrations and text boxes containing letters to her granddaughter or various famous folks. In it, Beckerman talks about her lifelong struggles to feel beautiful in her own skin. The looming class reunion brought all of this to the surface, prompting her to examine her thoughts more thoroughly and create a book of advice she could pass on to her granddaughter Olivia.

Most of the pages that don’t feature a letter have only three or four short paragraphs, if that. The letters, meanwhile, are generally only about a paragraph long. Libbie and I have both enjoyed writing letters to famous people as well as each other, so this was an aspect of the book to which we could both relate. Throughout the book, she shares lots of letters, few of which she actually sent. The messages to Olivia are usually wise or sweet, while the notes to celebrities tend to be snarky or self-deprecating. Many of them reflect a preoccupation with physical appearance.

For instance, right from the get-go she mentions that she has spent huge portions of her life obsessed with her clothing, hair, makeup and other aspects of her looks, often trying to emulate supermodels or glamorous actresses. She then reveals a letter that she claims she wrote to Mother Teresa years ago in which she confesses that she wishes she had spent that fashion-focused time on more noble pursuits and wonders what she might have made of herself if she had. Then she adds that she wishes Mother Teresa – or Sandra Day O’Connor, another woman she says she admires – had Audrey Hepburn’s wardrobe.

She writes to a lot of people throughout the book. Other non-recipients include Sofia Coppola, Ann Landers, Bess Truman, Shirley MacLaine, Ava Gardner, Jackie Kennedy Onassis, Sarah Jessica Parker, Kate Hudson, Gwyneth Paltrow, Gene Tierney, Madonna, Helen Gurley Brown of Cosmopolitan, Sophia Loren, Goldie Hawn, Elizabeth Taylor, Audrey Hepburn, Marilyn Monroe and Meryl Streep. These letters usually begin with some variation of “I’ve always been a fan of yours but” or “even though” nearly every letter includes some bit of advice, though obviously some of it is not meant to be taken seriously (particularly since some of it is directed at people who have been dead for years).

Beckerman talks about how hung-up on appearances she used to be and honestly, to some extent, still is. While she doesn’t always take her own advice, she tries to tell Olivia that looks aren’t everything, and neither is star power. Early in the book, she tells her, “I hope you don’t have to wait as long as I did to know nobody’s perfect.” Mostly, she seems to think that society has progressed and that Olivia will be more able to feel content with herself than she did as a girl. Sometimes, though, she is horrified by modern trends. After stumbling upon MTV while channel surfing, she writes, “Kids seemed to be doing things to music that I didn’t know about until after I was married… and I certainly never did to music.”

Mostly, however, she expresses optimism that Olivia will be able to navigate the excesses, pressures and temptations of her generation to become a poised young woman. “I wish I’d known that people liked me just the way I was, even if I didn’t like me the way I was,” she writes in her final letter, having been surprised at how kindly her classmates treated her and each other and how insecure many of them reported feeling during their school days. “It takes a lifetime to get smart,” she advises her but hopes that she can get a head start.

The quirky illustrations add to the fun of this book. Some are quite silly, like the “bad hair days” illustration that features, among others, the headgear of Amelia Earhart and Whistler’s Mother. All of them have a very sketchy quality about them. These aren’t particularly artistic illustrations, but they are often amusing.

If you’ve ever struggled with self-esteem related to body issues, you may find solace or at least a smile in this book. Makeovers at the Beauty Counter of Happiness is probably not going to change anyone’s life, but it may make you a little more aware of the ways in which the fashion industry drives our culture, sometimes to the detriment of impressionable young minds.

My Favorite Versions of Traditional Religious Christmas Songs

It’s always a pleasure singing traditional Christmas carols in church, around the neighborhood or near our little Advent wreath this time of year. But as much as Christmas music is a communal experience, hundreds of musicians have recorded these sacred songs, giving us many different ways to enjoy them. Here are a few of my favorite specific recordings of various religious Christmas songs.

Angels We Have Heard on High – Having just recently seen Straight No Chaser in concert, I have to award them the honor of my favorite version of this celestial-sounding carol. Jerome Collins puts a soulful twist on the melody, and all those gorgeous voices coming together really does sound like a choir of angels. Throw in the visual element of some crystal blue lighting, and the effect is heavenly. “Gloria in Excelsis Deo!” This one is bundled with Hark! The Herald Angels Sing, and it’s a logical pairing; I always have to stop a minute to think about which song is which. Though it’s the former song that makes the bigger impression on me in this mash-up, both are beautifully done. “Hark! The herald angels sing. Glory to the newborn king!”

Away in a Manger – I consider this the most basic of Christmas carols, the first one that most children learn how to sing. There are two different melodies commonly used; I prefer the slightly more somber-sounding one to the one most Sunday school students cut their musical teeth on, but both are lovely. When it comes to conveying sweet simplicity, John Denver is hard to beat, and his gentle acoustic rendition of the “kid” version gets my vote. For the “adult” version, meanwhile, Anne Murray’s heartfelt recording, which incorporates both piano and guitar and includes a nod at the other melody, is my favorite. “Be near me, Lord Jesus. I ask thee to stay close by me forever and love me, I pray…”

Carol of the Bells - It has no words, and it starts out with God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen. It’s a little unconventional. But boy, do I love Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s electrified rendition of this song, which is one of the harder carols to sing anyway. I prefer clutching my invisible hand bells in my fists and ringing them out in time to the music. If you’re going to go with a vocal version of the song, I do love Straight No Chaser’s version of this one too, with the men using their voices to imitate the sound of bells. “Hark! How the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, ‘Throw cares away.’”

Children, Go Where I Send Thee – This one isn’t exactly as in the mainstream as most of the songs on this list, and it’s a little funny that I like it so much since I find The 12 Days of Christmas so tedious and really, this song only makes marginally more sense than that one. But there’s something so joyful about it, especially when Peter, Paul and Mary, who introduced me to the song, belt it out along with dozens of choir members. “Children, go where I send thee! How shall I send thee? I’m gonna send thee one by one, one for the itty bitty baby who was born, born, born in Bethlehem.”

Do You Hear What I Hear? – This is a song that seems to be very hard to get wrong. I’ve heard probably dozens of versions of it, and everybody, from Kristin Chenoweth to Bob Dylan, seems to bring their A game to this stirring anthem that celebrates the birth of Christ and expresses a desire for peace at a time when the threat of nuclear war hung heavy in the air. But Vanessa Williams’ version has just an extra something in it that puts it at the very top of my ranking. Her vocals are so clear and soulful, and I just love the exuberant instrumentation and African chanting that comes into play later in the song. Whenever this comes on the radio, I’m completely swept away in the wonder of it all. “Said the king to the people everywhere, listen to what I say. Pray for peace people everywhere. Listen to what I say. The child, the child sleeping in the night, he will bring us goodness and light…”

The First Noel - Clay Aiken recorded a Christmas album that came out just a year and a half after he emerged from the second season of American Idol the runner-up. I was pleased with the album, but my favorite Clay Christmas recording remains this song from the American Idol compilation released late in 2003. The sparse accompaniment allows Clay’s voice to truly shine as he builds toward a dramatic finish. This is one of those songs I’ve always liked but that never stood out that much from the pack. Ever since I heard that recording, it does. “Noel, noel, noel, noel. Born is the king of Israel.”

The Friendly Beasts – I really love the traditional rendition on Peter, Paul and Mary’s Christmas album, with each of them taking a verse and doing his or her best to convey the personality of the animal at hand and the choir helping out on the other verses. Meanwhile, the song, with a reworked melody, serves as a cornerstone on Jimmy Webb’s oratorio The Animals’ Christmas; as the only song on the album that Webb didn’t write himself, it brings an air of familiarity to an otherwise wholly original work for which he recruited the vocal talents of Art Garfunkel, Amy Grant and the Kings College School Choir. “Thus, every beast, by some good spell, in the stable rude was glad to tell of the gift he gave Emmanuel…”

God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen - They call it Comfort and Joy, which really is probably a better title, albeit less instantly recognizable. Simon and Garfunkel never recorded much Christmas music, but for whatever reason, they did record a couple of traditional carols. While it always seemed to me that Silent Night was used for ironic emphasis, with the exquisite harmonies juxtaposed against the far from tranquil news broadcast, this a cappella rendition with the increasingly complex harmonies can be taken at face value. Just a very nice recording. If you miss the instruments, of course, there’s always Trans-Siberian Orchestra… “Remember Christ the Savior was born on Christmas day to save us all from Satan’s pow’r when we were gone astray. Oh, tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy. Oh, tidings of comfort and joy.”

Good King Wenceslas – My brother recently identified this very old ballad as his favorite Christmas song, and we set out in search of a version to play for him before he set out for college again after our little First Sunday in Advent service at the conclusion of Thanksgiving weekend. He didn’t think much of the Irish Rovers rendition we played; it was much too peppy, he informed us, and he preferred versions that really made us feel that faithful page’s pain. But there’s a lot of joy in this song about a warm and generous monarch whose chief concern is the well-being of one of his poorest citizens, so the Rovers’ exuberant version is fine by me. “Therefore, Christian men, be sure, wealth or rank possessing, ye who now will bless the poor shall yourselves find blessing.”

Joy to the World - This is a wonderfully ecstatic song, but it’s one that’s in danger of getting a little over-the-top, as it does on Clay Aiken’s Christmas album. I prefer versions that show a little restraint before going all-out, and my favorite is Anne Murray’s, backed by some nice Gospel-flavored piano accompaniment and eventually joined by a choir. It works quite nicely and is easy to sing along with. “Joy to the world, the Lord is come. Let Earth receive her King!”

The Little Drummer Boy – This gentle song about a little boy who gives the best that he has to the Christ Child is representative of a large sub-genre of Christmas stories, most of which are quite touching. The original Harry Simeone version is nice, but as far as basic versions go, I love the punchy way Bob Seger does it. But probably my favorite version is the odd pairing of Bing Crosby and David Bowie, with the counter-melody in which Bowie dreams of a day when people can learn to get along with each other. At first it seemed a bit of a strange juxtaposition to me, but upon reflection, it reminds me of the passage in Isaiah that concludes with “and a little child shall lead them.” Anyway, a very poignant recording, especially considering how late it came in Crosby’s life. “I have no gift to bring, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum, that’s fit to give a king, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum, rum-pum-pum-pum, rum-pum-pum-pum…”

O Come All Ye Faithful - Art Garfunkel recorded this one for some obscure collection a few years back, and it’s the most intricate, exquisite rendition I’ve heard. It’s a shame it’s rather hard to track down. With simple acoustic guitar accompaniment gradually joined by gentle percussion and accordion, what really makes this stand out is the dense layers of Art harmonizing with himself, especially toward the end. I also have to mention Trans-Siberian Orchestra once again, as their reworked rendition is quite moving, and Phil Coulter integrated the song into Christmas Morning Donegal, the haunting, nostalgic ballad that I’ve come to think of as the Celtic Thunder swan song of powerhouse tenor Paul Byrom. This is a song that tends to inspire the best in musicians… “O come let us adore Him, Christ the Lord!”

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel - I’ve always thought that this Christmas carol had a very Jewish feeling to it, so it seems appropriate for Neil Diamond to take top honors here. His version feels mysterious and solemn, and the pairing with We Three Kings just emphasizes the idea of this birth being a long-anticipated event. “O come, o come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel…”

O Little Town of Bethlehem – There are plenty of appropriately somber versions of this song floating around, but my favorite is the peppy, bluegrass-tinged Prairie Home Companion edition, in which it is mashed up with It Came Upon a Midnight Clear and We Three Kings, which makes a smashing chorus. There are much more traditional versions of each carol readily available, but Garrison Keillor and his band really do a bang-up job on this one. “O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie. Above thy deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by…”

Silent Night – Now this is certainly a tough one, since it seems almost everyone who has ever recorded a Christmas album with any religious content at all has recorded this song. I love Simon and Garfunkel’s version, and Prairie Home Companion has an unusually bouncy instrumental version that’s a lot of fun. I find the Muppets’ German rendition quite moving. But I think I gotta go with Celtic Thunder on this one, especially since they paved the way for it by recording Christmas 1915, which incorporates the beloved carol. Their version of Silent Night itself is richly harmonic, with an interesting backing chorus, and one of the verses is entirely in Gaelic. It’s hauntingly beautiful. “Silent night, holy night. Son of God, love’s pure light…”

What Child Is This? - This is a pretty carol with a rather melancholy edge to it, largely because it takes the melody of that lovely lament, Greensleeves. I love John Denver’s simple but heartfelt rendition for all the reasons I love his Away in the Manger, and the faint presence of the harpsichord just makes it all the more appealing. “This, this is Christ the King whom shepherds guard and angels sing…”

O Holy Night - I always tell people that this is my default favorite Christmas song. In the month or two leading up to Christmas, my favorite will change on any given day, but if I’m not particularly gripped by anything at the time, O Holy Night is what I always fall back on. But I don’t have a favorite version. Of all the versions I’ve ever heard, the one that affected me most profoundly was a performance by a seven-year-old girl at a long-ago Christmas pageant. No version I’ve heard since can quite recapture that experience. Preferred versions include Josh Groban’s, Celine Dion’s, Straight No Chaser’s, John Denver’s and Celtic Woman’s, but I’m still on the hunt for that elusive definitive version. If anybody has any recommendations for me, I’d be happy to take them – bonus points if it includes my favorite, often-left-out verse. “Truly He taught us to love one another. His law is love and His Gospel is peace. Chains shall He break, for the slave is our brother, and in His name, all oppression shall cease…”

So there’s my list. It doesn’t begin to cover all the great Christmas music that I love so much, but it’s a start anyway and gives you a good idea of where my musical tastes lie. Of course, at no time of year am I more likely to embrace new artists than at Christmas; the familiarity of the songs opens a door for me. So I hope this list continues to expand…

Clay Aiken Goes Back to the 50s With Tried and True

When Clay Aiken was a contestant on American Idol, he sang a lot of songs from decades ago, and they suited his voice very well. Since then, most of his albums have featured more contemporary music, but with Tried and True, he returns to the types of standards for which he first became known. He goes back a little further than I would prefer - usually the Fifties rather than the Sixties - but then, that's because it's his favorite decade of music, and when an album is done with such obvious affection, I'm not about to complain about song choices.

Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You - I always liked this Frankie Valli song, and Clay's version is melodious and energetic, with plenty of brass to back him up. It makes a solid start to the album.

What Kind of Fool Am I - I wasn't familiar with this Leslie Bricusse / Anthony Newley song before, but it's a smooth, jazzy tune with plenty of saxophone courtesy of David Sanborn. Clay sings it earnestly, and I have to chuckle at the line, "Why can't I cast away this mask of Clay and live my life?"

It's Only Make Believe - Another song unfamiliar to me, this Conway Twitty ditty also has plenty of brass in the background, along with finger-snapping and prominent piano. Clay sings it well, though he comes across as very peppy, while the lyrics are quite the downer.

Misty - Clay slows it way down in this Erroll Garner song, which is heavy on the violins and crawls along at a steady pace. Another saxophone solo halfway through the song emphasizes its melancholy nature. I'd never heard this one before either; it definitely gives off a loungy Fifties vibe.

Mack the Knife - Clay sang this Bobby Darin song on American Idol, and the showmanship suits him well, though the subject matter is pretty grisly. It's a little uncomfortable to listen to the lyrics and realize that he's singing about a serial killer. Still, this upbeat number is a perfect match for Clay's style.

It's Impossible - A vulnerable song complete with saxophone and chimes, though guitar is the most prominent instrument. Originally covered by Perry Como, it's one of the prettiest tracks on the album and another I'd never heard before.

Unchained Melody - Clay performed this Righteous Brothers classic on the penultimate episode of American Idol, and it was one that many fans had eagerly awaited. He recorded it on his self-published album pre-dating his appearance on the show, and listening to this rendition, it's clear how he's matured as a performer. This song, backed by gorgeous legato piano with occasional strings, is pretty understated up until the end, at which point he pulls out all the stops. I notice that in this version, he pronounces the word "to" correctly; in his earlier rendition, it's "toe," which I always found rather distracting. Anyway, probably my favorite track on the album.

Suspicious Minds - Another familiar cover for Clay fans. Clay does a great job with this peppy Elvis song. I've heard Clay perform this song on several occasions, and he seems to particularly relish it. Another great track.

Crying - This is an interesting rendition of the Roy Orbison hit. I tend not to think of this as one that lends itself easily to being a duet, since the tone is so desolate, but sharing the track with Linda Eder puts an interesting spin on it, emphasizing the pain of both parties. Some unusual harmonies, and Clay doesn't really go for the glory notes on this one, which he certainly could. It's a more subdued version, but it's still quite nice.

There's a Kind of Hush - Clay's tone is cheerful on this Herman's Hermits classic, which is a nice change after the despondence of the last track. You can tell he's having fun on this one.

Moon River - This piano-backed song by Johnny Mercer and Henry Mancini includes a nice instrumental section with guitar work from Vince Gill. A very slow, mellow way for Clay to end the album.

Tried and True is a nice collection with a nostalgic feel to it. All of the songs have a pretty similar sound to them, but it works well. I suspect that this is one that may appeal more to the older segment of Clay's fan base; even an oldies aficionado like me didn't recognize a third of the songs, and I have to admit the overall tone is a bit snoozy. But that's not really a bad thing. This is an album to play if you're in a laid-back mood and a good album to fall asleep to. Maybe not the best thing to play while driving due to its soporific effects, but if you like Clay Aiken or have a thing for lounge music, it's time you tried Tried and True.

Clay Aiken and Ruben Studdard Buddy Up on August 6, 2010, in Chautauqua, NY

When I think of musically significant years in my life, 2003 is one year that shines out especially clearly. That’s for two reasons. The first is that 2003 was the year I finally got to see Simon and Garfunkel in concert, thanks to their much-anticipated Old Friends Tour. Those two have been a major part of my musical landscape since I was seven, and given their rocky relationship, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to see them live. But see them I did, in October, and though I was irritated that it was probably the most I’d ever paid for a concert and the worst seats, even though I bought them in a presale, the show was amazing, and I enjoyed anticipating and rehashing the tour with my friends on Art Garfunkel’s message board.

The Internet also played a role in my other major musical obsession that year: American Idol, then in its second season. As the show progressed into the semi-finals and the Wild Card round, I found myself falling hard for a contestant by the name of Clayton Aiken, and in those pre-YouTube days, I spent long nights downloading the videos of his various appearances, both on the show and off. I chatted with random fellow fans on one of his first unofficial fan sites, and I held my breath every week to see whether he would make the cut yet again. While I cheered on Clay, my best friend Libbie rooted for Rickey Smith, a gold-hearted guy whose favorite activities included singing to the ducks in the park, but neither of us begrudged velvet-voiced Ruben Studdard the crown he eventually claimed.

Over the past seven years, we’ve continued to follow the progress of these young musicians, particularly Clay. We caught the American Idols Live tour that summer, and I saw Clay in concert three times after that, while Libbie and I also managed to see and even meet Rickey here in Erie once. We’ve followed their public appearances, with my grandparents often tipping me off that Clay or Ruben was about to appear on a morning television program. These marvelous entertainers have made their way into many of our conversations, both online and off, and when Clay turns up in their paper, they make a point of sending me the article. I also have Clay to thank for introducing me to my friend Cynthia, who found me on MySpace thanks to a mutual love of Clay and John Denver.

So these guys have been a big part of my life for a while now, and by the time Libbie and I went to see Clay and Ruben in concert yesterday, they felt like “old friends” themselves. Certainly, their affection for one another, apparent from their days as contestants, was a big part of their reason for launching this particular tour, and their easy rapport with one another was one of the most enjoyable aspects of the concert.

We went to see them in Chautauqua, NY, at the same amphitheater where I saw Peter, Paul and Mary perform in 2006. The crowd this time was comparable, with few empty spaces in the crowd and several fans who preferred to stand at the top of the amphitheater rather than venturing down to find a seat. Whenever it came time for one of the more upbeat numbers, these people on the outskirts were always the first to get up and dance. Although we had a long line ahead of us, it would seem that most of the first-comers were in the Preferred Section, since we were able to get seats near the very front of the General Section. We also arrived with plenty of time to go up and peruse the souvenir stand, though this didn’t amount to much, since the only items on sale were CDs and t-shirts. I had hoped to buy a program, but I satisfied myself with a Chautauqua newspaper featuring an article about the concert. I wouldn’t have minded a t-shirt, which had nice photos of Ruben and Clay on the front and a list of tour dates on the back, but ultimately I decided that I didn’t need to plunk down another $30 when I already have three Clay shirts.

Even though I didn’t buy anything, I’m glad I looked at the souvenirs when I did, because if I’d planned on scoping that out during intermission, I would have been out of luck. That’s because Ruben and Clay sang for a full two hours without any break. Well, I should say without any break for us, since backup singers Quiana Parler and Casey Thompson each had an opportunity to shine as soloists while letting Ruben and Clay get off the stage for a bit. Additionally, each of the headliners had a couple of full-blown solo songs, so there was ample time for both of them to rest their voices.

The concert began in a most entertaining fashion, as Ruben came out and launched into Flying Without Wings, his American Idol victory anthem, only to be pushed aside by Clay singing This is the Night, which would have been his victory anthem had he won - though the vote was so close and the subsequent album releases so comparably successful, it really felt more as though Ruben and Clay had tied. For several minutes, they went back and forth, finding more devious ways of relieving each other of the spotlight. This good-natured bickering went on throughout the night.

The bulk of the show consisted of tributes to the 60s, the 70s, the 80s and the 90s, with each decade largely represented by an expansive medley. The downside to this was that we only got to hear greatly truncated versions of several of the songs, and they came so rapidly after each other that it was sometimes hard to adjust. Nonetheless, it was a fun overview, and each decade also included full-length songs to balance things out better.

Prior to the first medley, I enjoyed Clay’s conclusion that Ruben’s 60s were a lot different from his 60s. After they had finished, I concluded that my 60s were quite different from either of theirs, since they’d included no songs from the folk movement, even folk-rockers like Simon and Garfunkel. What’s more, not a single Beatles song was to be heard, though I wonder if that had more to do with licensing issues. I hope so, because otherwise it seems an egregious oversight. But the songs they did perform were a lot of fun, from Elvis Presley’s Suspicious Minds and the Beach Boys’ Wouldn’t It Be Nice to the Turtles’ Happy Together and Roy Orbison’s Crying. Casey closed out the decade with a powerhouse performance of Aretha Franklin’s Natural Woman.

The 60s led naturally into the 70s, where R&B and pop again dominated, leaving no room for mellow singer-songwriters like John Denver, Jim Croce, Don McLean or James Taylor, whose songs have often been a part of Clay’s past concerts. Clay had two big solos during this set: Still the One, which I’ve heard him sing before, and Barry Manilow’s Mandy, which I haven’t. Both showcased his voice very well, while Ruben was right at home with a Marvin Gaye medley and a flawless rendition of Karen Carpenter’s Superstar, one of his signature Idol performances. As with the other medleys, Clay and Ruben were onstage together, along with Casey and Quiana, as the songs continued in rapid succession, but for the most part they switched off on vocals, with only a couple, like Earth, Wind and Fire’s rousing September, being genuine duets. The 70s gave Quiana her moment in the spotlight with Chaka Khan’s I’m Every Woman, the last full-blown solo of the night for either of the women.

The tribute to the 80s began with an entertaining, albeit slightly overlong, sequence that involved “Pastor” Ruben, garbed in a white robe and spoofing money-grubbing televangelists, receiving a sizable donation from Clay’s mother to cure him of his inability to dance. Clay’s supposed lack of rhythm was a running joke throughout the first half of the concert, and this segment brought it to its natural conclusion. Ruben and Clay both cite the church as a major factor in their musical formation, an influence they explicitly noted last night since the seating in the amphitheater is pews, so I didn’t take the bit to be mean-spirited, but Libbie’s mom was a little uncomfortable with the extent of the ribbing, and Libbie and I were both surprised that Clay, so squeaky-clean the previous times we saw him, swore prominently a few times throughout the evening, though the profanity was mild and mostly used for comic emphasis.

Of all the banter of the evening, my favorite probably occurred during the 80s set, when Clay and Ruben went back and forth talking about what the 80s meant to them. As Clay rattled off “macho” icons like MacGyver, Rambo, Mr. T and Rocky, Ruben reminisced about Care Bears, Smurfs, Teddy Ruxpin and My Buddy dolls, even singing the jingle for the latter. In the end, Clay won out, though, launching into the medley with an adrenaline-packed rendition of Survivor’s Eye of the Tiger, in which Ruben promptly joined in. Other songs included Toto’s Africa, Peter Cetera’s Glory of Love and Heart’s Alone, all of which were energetic, but it was Kenny Loggins’ Footloose that got everybody in the crowd up and dancing.

Ruben kicked off the 90s with an ultra-smooth rendition of Bryan Adams’ Everything I Do, which funnily enough was covered by Clay on his album A Thousand Different Ways. My favorite singers seem to gravitate toward this song; Ryan Kelly also sang it on Celtic Thunder’s It's Entertaiment. At this point, I’m inclined to award Ryan top honors by a whisker, but Ruben and Clay also interpret the song admirably.

The 90s quickly went from earnest to silly when Clay came out in Hammer pants adorned with a gold chain and gave an enthusiastic performance of Montell Jordan’s This Is How We Do It. Most of the songs in the 90s set were ripe with comedic possibilities, and Clay and Ruben got as many laughs as they could out of such numbers as Billy Ray Cyrus’s Achy Breaky Heart, Hanson’s MMMBop, Ricky Martin’s Livin’ La Vida Loca and Sir Mix-a-Lot’s Baby Got Back. The concert ended rather abruptly with Boyz II Men and Mariah Carey’s One Sweet Day, the final song in the medley, but the four quickly returned for an encore of Dirty Dancing theme song Time of My Life, which felt much more like a concluding song and once again got everyone up out of their seats.

While Chautauqua tends to draw a slightly older audience, I saw people of all ages in the crowd, ranging from young children to silver-haired ladies who could boogie with the best of them. We ended up sitting just a couple of rows behind one of my dad’s colleagues and his wife, and when we bumped into them after the concert at the Refectory, a quaint ice cream parlor in convenient proximity to the amphitheater, they told us how much they had enjoyed the concert. While Libbie confessed disappointment that Clay hadn’t sung Invisible, this tribute to pop greats of the past seemed like a fitting way to honor some of Ruben and Clay’s formative influences and give us a peek into pop history. In many ways it reminded me of Clay’s Jukebox Tour, though that did include a set from the 2000s, which allowed him to draw from some of his contemporary recordings, while Ruben and Clay, aside from the opening number, only went as far as the late 90s, which is long enough ago now that many of the songs from that time invite nostalgia.

It’s hard to believe that Clay and Ruben have both been in the business now for close to a decade. Both of them have recorded several albums, and judging by the enthusiasm of the crowd last night, there’s no reason to think that they can’t continue to have lucrative careers. While they may not dominate the charts these days, they continue to put out excellent music appreciated by their ardent fans, and I suspect that these oddly matched buddies will continue to cheerfully support each other long after they have gone on to separate projects.

Celtic Thunder's It's Entertainment Lives Up To Its Name

Fifteen months ago, I first watched Celtic Thunder on PBS. Little did I know then that this quintet - now a sextet - was about to comfortably seat itself in the upper reaches of my hierarchy of musicians. Last summer saw the release of their third album, Take Me Home. Last fall, I had second-row seats to their concert in Erie, and luck was on my side later that night when I encountered them after the concert and even got a hug from an obliging Ryan Kelly, my favorite member of the group. They helped draw me into Twitter, which gave me a better sense of their personalities: George’s affection, Ryan’s humility, Paul’s wit, Keith’s ambition, Damian’s exuberance (which recently, much to my delight, has often been directed toward LOST).

Now this past month saw the release of It’s Entertainment, which marks a significant change for the group as Neil Byrne, previously known to fans primarily for his skills as an instrumentalist, steps up to join the lads for a couple of songs and even gets one to himself. It also marks a shift in focus, as the purpose of this particular album is to pay tribute to some of the lads’ musical heroes, and the greats of music in general. The tone, especially on the DVD, is generally light-hearted and very American.

The result feels both fun and affectionate, but some may be bothered by the fact that traditional Celtic music has little representation here and Irish songwriting legend Phil Coulter has penned only one new song for the occasion - and it, too, sounds extremely American. Not to fear, though; up next is a concept album set in Ireland of yesteryear. In the meantime, It’s Entertainment may be the least Irish of their albums, but it’s still a great accompaniment to your St. Patrick’s Day festivities.

Home - Damian McGinty joined the group when he was 14 years old, so he is the member who has changed the most in the three years since the group assembled. Their first concert saw him singing inspirational ballads like A Bird Without Wings and bubblegum numbers like Puppy Love. He knocked both out of the park. But by the time Take Me Home came along, his voice had matured to the point that the teenie bopper songs were starting to sound a little silly. I was hoping this album would give him something with more of an adult edge, so I was very happy with this selection.

It’s really a perfect choice for this young man who has been spending weeks or even months away from home since 2007 - and who happens to be a huge fan of Michael Buble. In this song, there’s a slightly world-weary edge to the homesickness. Like Bob Seger’s Turn the Page, John Denver’s Back Home Again and Paul Simon’s Homeward Bound, it acknowledges that a musician’s life isn’t all fun and games and that touring - and separation from loved ones - can be downright tiring. Damian delivers a smooth, soulful performance, and it becomes apparent that the boy is growing up. “May be surrounded by / A million people; I / Still feel all alone. / I just wanna go home...”

Life With You - George Donaldson is the elder statesman of the group, the only Scot, the only husband and the only father, and he’s yet to be given a song that doesn’t feel absolutely perfect for him. There’s such a depth to his delivery, which has an odd rippling quality that owes much to his rich Glaswegian accent. All of his songs have to do with faithfulness - to a parent, to a job, to a child, to a spouse. This up-tempo number reminds me of the Irish Rovers’ Years May Come, Years May Go, a song about cheerfully sticking together through the ups and downs of life.

While that song largely looks backward, this one looks forward. We get the sense that the speaker and his love haven’t been together all that long, and he is still amazed that he has her and wants to be sure she knows it. The bouncy keyboard accompaniment adds to the appeal of this song, as does the rather unusual staccato phrasing. “But since I met you I’m distraught / You wandered in and now I’m caught / I never thought I would see / Someone so truly good, some / One who’s so everything I’m not.” It’s the perfect companion to the Proclaimers’ more famous I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles), which George sings on Take Me Home and which is also included on the It’s Entertainment DVD.

Lough Swilly Railway - This is one song that definitely does sound Irish. It’s a fast-paced reel complete with a variety of instruments, including fiddles, guitar, piano and a sprightly type of hand-held percussion I can’t quite place. Every album has to have at least one of these instrumental tracks that shows off the skills of the band and makes you want to get up and do a jig. While it’s more fun when you can watch the musicians at work, this track remains exhilarating without the visual elements.

Hallelujah - This is probably the track I was most looking forward to, as I’ve been enchanted with the Leonard Cohen song since I first heard Rufus Wainwright’s version in Shrek and since I knew that the harmonies would be stunning. The fact that Ryan would be one of the trio here excited me, and Neil’s inclusion intrigued me. While I am disappointed that they sang only three verses, I’m not surprised, given Celtic Thunder’s tendency to shorten songs.

Piano is the predominant instrument here, augmented by understated strings. Neil gets to be the one to start things off, with the first verse to himself, before Ryan’s huskier voice joins his tender tenor for the chorus. Keith goes solo on the first couple of lines in the second verse, while the rest of the song is marked by close the communion of voices, with different singers slightly more audible at different times. The three men sound just as exquisite together as I had hoped - though the best in harmony is yet to come... “I heard there was a secret chord / That David played and it pleased the Lord, / But you don't really care for music, do ya? / Well, it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth / The minor fall and the major lift, / The baffled king composing hallelujah...”

Just Like Jesse James - This song is an anomaly. I’m glad I watched the DVD first, because at least that provides a bit of context; nonetheless, my parents and I turned to each other with puzzled expressions that said, “Who is this girl and why is she singing?” It seems the entire purpose of this song is to set up Keith’s apology in the next track, which doesn’t make a lot of sense because it is not the apology of the type of cocksure ne’er-do-well this song describes. Rather, it’s perfectly in line with the sensitive persona evident through the rest of his songs. If anything, this song should be directed at Ryan, who appears to be a total sweetheart in real life but, with his background in musical theater, has a blast playing the bad boy. “So if you're so tough / Come on and prove it. / You heart is down for the count and you know you're gonna lose it. / Tonight you're gonna go down in flames / Just like Jesse James.”

So yeah, the song doesn’t make a lot of sense. But now that I’ve got that off my chest, I’ll shrug off the objection because Charley Bird is a phenomenal singer. She has a wonderful tone to her voice that is melodious but tough, and I love listening to this track. I also feel badly for her because she appears to have been tossed in without any real promotion. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of effort to let people know who she is. This is even more egregious with the DVD, as Caroline Torti, a lovely dancer who seems perfectly equipped to convey the ferocity of the lyrics, seamlessly lip-synchs the song. It took a bit of investigation on my part to figure out they were two different people. I feel like both of them are kinda getting the short end of the stick here in terms of recognition.

Hard to Say I’m Sorry - It’s overwrought power ballad time, but I never really minded this one as I do several of the songs in this category, including I Want to Know What Love Is, which Keith Harkin sings on another album. This Chicago song always struck me as sweet and sincere, and as power ballads go, it’s on the understated side, with the crescendos feeling natural instead of forced.

Keith still comes across here like an incredibly kind, gentlemanly soul, a poor match with the man being berated in the song that precedes it. He’s more straightforward than usual here; he has a tendency to indulge in a bit of vocal acrobatics, but on this track he sticks pretty close to the melody, and his closing falsetto note is gorgeous. “After all that we've been through, / I will make it up to you. I promise to. / And after all that's been said and done, / You're just the part of me I can't let go.”

Bad Bad Leroy Brown - Devoted Jim Croce fan that I am, I was really looking forward to seeing Ryan tackle this long-time favorite. This is another one where you’re missing a lot by not getting the visuals, but it’s still a whole heck of a lot of fun to listen to. The piano and brass offer peppy back-up as Ryan narrates this gripping tale about a guy too big for his britches with obvious gusto.

You can really get a sense of his theatrical background here, even without the West Side Story-ish choreography that accompanies the song on the DVD; I love how he accentuates certain lines with a growl or a sultry exclamation. He’s said that he just loves performing this song, and I just love listening to it! “Well the South side of Chicago / Is the baddest part of town / And if you go down there / You better just beware / Of a man named Leroy Brown...”

Doo Wacka Doo - I’ve been surprised to discover just how witty Paul Byrom is, since he rarely gets the chance to show off that side with his songs, which tend to be operatic and quite solemn. That’s a Woman, his duet with Ryan, is an exception, but even so, his part of the song is pretty earnest, while Ryan gets to have all the snarky fun. He still comes across as very sophisticated here, especially whenever he says the word “dance,” but there’s a wonderfully light touch to this Phil Coulter original, which is written in the style of music of the Twenties and Thirties.

The brass, ragtime piano and brisk percussion all evoke the Roaring Twenties. Coulter’s lyrics are clever and at one point give him a chance to show off his operatic chops. They’re also affectionate, connecting a fascination with the music of this era to the love of his grandparents and a desire to step into the world of their youth. An extremely entertaining song that is perhaps the album’s most surprising track (Jesse James aside). “Doo wacka doo wacka doo wacka doo wacka doo, the band would play. / Doo wacka doo wacka doo wacka doo, they’d dance the night away...”

Amazing Grace - I would imagine I’ve heard this song more than all the others in the Celtic Thunder repertoire combined, and I’ve encountered more different versions than I could begin to count. It’s one of those hymns that seems to sit right near the top of nearly every church-goer‘s list of favorites, and it’s one that resonates with me even more this year than usual as it was featured in one of the few official promos going into LOST‘s sixth season, giving me high hopes for impending redemptive conclusions to the arcs of these conflicted characters. I was happy to see that this would be a part of the album. But I didn’t expect that it would be the track that would floor me more than any other, or that it would instantly become the definite version of the song for me. It’s a purely a cappella track, and it’s easy to imagine that they are singing under the dome of a magnificent cathedral.

Ryan, an organist’s son who has lent his voice to countless church services, opens the song with a reverence to suggest both sincerity and intimate familiarity with the hymn, soon to be replaced by Keith, after which Neil’s harmonies soar effortlessly over them into the upper register, giving the lines an Appalachian flavor. At least I think that’s Neil doing the high harmonies; it could be Keith, and I wish I could consult a video to get a better feel for who’s singing what. While the repetition of the first verse at the end is a group effort, Ryan’s is the most prominent voice in the concluding lines, though Damian goes on to repeat the final line. In between, each singer has his moment in the spotlight, though rarely is there only one voice to be heard at any given time.

George and Paul share lead vocals on the second verse, while the third is the most integrated of the verses, with no clear leader. Damian demonstrates how much deeper his voice has gotten in the solemn fourth verse, while Neil, who seems to now hold the honor of having the highest voice in the group, has the lead in the first half of the repeated first verse. And all the while, other members of the group weave in and out of elaborate harmonies, creating a profoundly moving listening experience. My only complaint is that, like Take Me Home’s Green Fields of France, this was not included on the DVD. Are the harmonies too complex to replicate on stage?

Hello Again - Neil Diamond is another of my favorite singer-songwriters, so I was happy to find one of his songs here. George’s deep, rumbling voice is perfect for the song; in the first line, he sounds so much like Diamond it’s eerie. As the song goes on, his own distinct voice shines through more as gently rippling chimes provide a nice counterpart to his low register. Another touching ballad about love and faithfulness. “Just called to say hello. / I couldn't sleep at all tonight / And I know it's late / But I couldn't wait. / Hello.”

When You Wish Upon a Star - Neil’s official introduction, to the accompaniment of a mellow-sounding keyboard. This feels like an appropriate song for this talented musician brought from the sidelines into the spotlight. I’m still getting used to his voice and learning to identify it for its own qualities rather than simply recognizing that it’s none of the other five. There’s a lovely tone to it, and he really excels at those high notes. More than anybody else in the group, I think, he has a voice that reminds me of a contemporary boy band. At any rate, this is a great track and a fitting way for Neil to shine. “When you wish upon a star your dreams come true...”

Standing on the Corner - This is Damian’s more light-hearted song, somewhat akin to his earlier teen idol-type tunes. Again he comes across as more of a young man instead of a teenager. His Irish accent disappears altogether as he tries to emulate a member of the Rat Pack, with a sophisticated swagger undermined by his confession that he hasn’t got a girl, and that attaining one is a dream that seems out of reach for him. He’s content to window-shop, believing his balance of charm and style insufficient to pay for the privilege of an actual date.

It’s a funny notion, since I kinda get the impression that of all the members of the group, Damian has the largest fan base, and getting a girl would be no problem for him whatsoever. Just a very lighthearted song enhanced by jaunty piano and jazzy percussion. It’s one of my favorites on the album, and Damian sounds like he had a blast recording it. “Brother, you don't know a nicer occupation - / Matter of fact, neither do I - / Than standing on the corner watching all the girls, / Watching all the girls, watching all the girls go by.”

Surfer Medley (Surf City / Fun, Fun, Fun / Surfin’ USA) - One of Keith’s defining characteristics is the fact that he is an avid surfer, so it was only a matter of time before he took on the Beach Boys. A very energetic trio of songs, which is a nice change since Keith’s specialty is slower romantic ballads. Nice to hear him just have a little fun out there.

Sway - This Mexican-flavored song is one that has been covered by singers ranging from Dean Martin to Michael Buble. Like Doo Wacka Doo, the style is a bit of a departure for Paul, which I don‘t mind; it‘s nice to see him branching out more into other types of music. A nice mellow track. “When marimba rhythms start to play / Dance with me, make me sway. / Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore / Hold me close, sway me more.”

Everything I Do (I Do It For You) - There’s not even a hint of Bad Boy Ryan in this song. Nothin’ but Dreamboat in this song instantly recognizable to most of my generation as the theme to Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. Interestingly, Clay Aiken covered this on A Thousand Different Ways, and his version has a much more Celtic flavor to it than Ryan’s does. The instruments in this rendition are pretty understated, with just the guitar standing out as it does some unusual twanging from time to time.

But it’s Ryan’s earnest delivery, his smoky voice lingering over each pledge of devotion like mist over a Sherwood morning, that makes this track so irresistible. The healthy version of I’ll Be Watching You, with the speaker offering the best of himself for the sake of the one he loves instead of pining away as he peeks in her window. Meanwhile, my own heart goes pitter-pat... “Look into your heart. You will find / There's nothin' there to hide. / Take me as I am; take my life. / I would give it all. I would sacrifice.”

I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For - It’s generally best for the album to end with a bang, and boy does this one do that! What’s more, this time it pays tribute to U2, the band helmed by Irish megastar / philanthropist Bono. It’s an opportunity for more phenomenal harmony as the lads come together for the one track on the album that truly showcases everyone at once.

The driving jungle rhythm of those drums, beckoning to adventure! The swirling strings that race along like the winds that chase the Fellowship of the Ring and threaten to deter them from their journey! And of course, the voices of the seekers, bonded in a strange, wistful exuberance, frustrated by the lack of answers but taking true joy in the journey. Again, rather like LOST. I just hope this is not the song we’re singing after the series finale. “I have climbed highest mountain. / I have run through the fields / Only to be with you / Only to be with you...”

The lads may still be searching, but if what you’re looking for is a thoroughly charming accompaniment to your St. Patrick’s Day celebration, or an album to put a dash of green into any old day, perhaps your quest can end with It’s Entertainment.

Clay Aiken Has Come a Long Way to Get to On My Way Here

When Clay Aiken released his last album, A Thousand Different Ways, many complained about its focus on classic love songs at the expense of original music. I had no objection to the direction Clay chose to take there, but it was still exciting to see that the On My Way Here, his latest effort, is made up of new songs. I had hoped that more songs would bear his name in the writer's credits, but at least several seem to have been written specifically for him, and all suit him well.

The collection, firmly in adult contemporary territory, is thematically similar to his previous albums, with plenty of love songs along with some anthems of self-awareness. The titular ballad, perhaps my favorite track, is the strongest example of the latter. It has an autobiographical feel to it, with specific details like the kitchen floor in a childhood home, parents' divorce and an adulthood filled with mobility. Add to that all the hints of adversity and a terrific melody with clever phrasing, and you've got a song with the right message and emotional punch for an American Idol finale number that feels much more intimate than the incredibly catchy but somewhat vacuous This Is The Night.

The Real Me also explores Clay's personal journey, though it's entwined with a love song. This piano-driven track is among the quietest on the album and probably the most emotive. Clay comes across as endearingly shy and geeky here, reminding me of the very young Paul Simon in Just a Boy. There's almost a whispered quality to his voice, and he glides into a gentle falsetto at several points in the song, creating a gorgeous effect.

As Long As We're Here is a love song as well, with a second verse lyrically reminiscent of Billy Joel's An Innocent Man. Urging the object of his affections to give their love a shot despite past scarring, he makes a more general statement in the chorus about making the most of the time we have by focusing on love. Celtic instrumentation gives this song a unique flavor.

Sacrificial Love has Clay questioning the sincerity of his significant other. It's an interesting bookend to The Real Me; instead of being grateful that his girlfriend sees "the real me," he doubts whether he is seeing the real her. I love the melody on this one, especially on the chorus, which in patches bears a slight resemblance to Once's Oscar-winning Falling Slowly, and the violins augment the emotional quality of the lyrics.

Lover All Alone is the sole album offering penned by Clay, along with two other songwriters. Some fans have heard it before, as it was offered as a bonus track on his previous album, but it's a nice inclusion nonetheless, an introspective exploration of loneliness and misplaced affections. I purchased my album at WalMart and consequently received the bonus track Forget I Ever Knew You. It's a nice song, but frankly I find the bonus track trend annoying, as it often means you have to buy the album two or three times in order to get all the potential songs. I haven't heard if there are any other bonus tracks offered at other stores; KMart and Target, for instance, often have them as well. The price is right at WalMart, though; it only cost me ten dollars, well below the advertised price.

Other albums standouts include Everything I Don't Need, whose growly country-rock flavor is unusual for Clay; Something About Us, an incredibly soft and tender love song rich with piano and strings; the guitar and percussion-driven Falling; and Where I Draw the Line, an energetic number that Clay has performed on television to promote the album. There's also rising from adversity-themed Ashes, Weight of the World and Grace of God. The latter is especially nice, as it focuses not primarily on him but on others in this world who are suffering. As a Unicef ambassador and the founder of the Bubel Aiken Foundation, Clay has shown his commitment to relieving the burdens of others as much as he can, so that song serves as a reminder of his dedication.

Clay has been very productive in the five years since he came in second in season two of American Idol. A Thousand Different Ways came out just a year and a half ago, but for devoted fans, that's long enough. May is off to a terrific start for Claymates with On My Way Here.

Number 1200: Carly Simon Serves Up Tender, Folksy Goodness With Into White

It's been a great year for new albums. Last May, I snatched up Paul Simon's Surprise; in the fall, it was Clay Aiken's A Thousand Different Ways and Weird Al's Straight Outta Lynwood, and January brought Art Garfunkel's Some Enchanted Evening. Then along came my birthday, and with it a gem I'd overlooked: Carly Simon's Into White. I've always enjoyed her music but never included her in my list of indispensable artists. Having had an opportunity to fall in love with this gentle, folksy album - the most tender I've encountered since Garfunkel's Songs From a Parent to a Child - I may just have to amend that...

Into White - This Cat Stevens title song is a sleepy anthem to simple beauty. Simon's husky vocals are complemented by the harmonization of Jimmy Parr and rich instrumentals that occasional seem to betray a Celtic influence.

Oh! Susanna - One of those songs just about everybody in America probably knows. The mystical-sounding flute and persistent kalimba add a unique flavor to a song whose familiarity and simplicity could make for a dull track. Instead, it's ideal for both singing along or just sitting back and listening appreciatively.

Blackbird - A smooth, heartfelt rendition of a Lennon and McCartney classic. The guitar provides a nice undertone, and the chorus of "ooooh"s works well as a bridge, but it's Simon's vocals that really carry this empowering melody.

You Can Close Your Eyes - A gorgeous piano-driven track, penned by James Taylor, Simon's ex-husband. Their children Ben and Sally harmonize with her on this one, and they sound gorgeous together. I'm struck by how much Ben sounds like his father; I'm powerfully reminded of James' rendition of this song, which closed out his concert in Erie last year. It's a very intimate moment on the album.

Quiet Evening - A new composition for this album, it's a contemplative, slightly sultry song. It doesn't grab me as much as some of others, but it's a nice ode to the need for a little personal time now and then, and Simon says in her liner notes that it's her favorite song on the album to sing.

Manha de Carnaval - A Brazilian guitar-driven track in which the only lyrics are "la la la". Despite the lack of words, it's emotionally affecting, with her deft vocals mostly evoking wistfulness.

Jamaica Farewell - One of my favorite tracks on the album, it's a breezy number whose tone is slightly regretful but mostly one of golden nostalgia. Simon's voice is especially quiet here, though never to the point that it is overpowered by the guitar and other instruments, and she and Ben harmonize nicely as a segue into the next song.

You Are My Sunshine - Another of those camp song favorites. This version is much slower than I'm used to, giving it a soulful vibe. The piano, which reminds me a bit of Lean on Me, is what really sets this apart for me, along with the barely audible guitar on the outro, which is reminiscent of waves lapping upon a shore.

I Gave My Love a Cherry - Another very slow arrangement of a famous folk song. I've never been that crazy about this one, but Simon does a nice job with it, and I like the strings that offset the vocals.

Devoted to You / All I Have to Do is Dream - I wasn't familiar with the first song, which makes up the main part of the medley, but it's a very simple, lovely song, which Simon delivers with great gentleness. When the second song, which I know quite well, kicks in atop the remnants of the first, it's a beautiful meshing of voices, with Ben once again complementing his mother beautifully.

Scarborough Fair - Simon and Garfunkel! Yay!! This gorgeous Celtic arrangement of the song they made famous doesn't include their counter-melody. Rather, it has a lovely selection of woodwinds and a couple of verses Simon (Carly, that is) added to the mix. In her liner notes, she credits not only my favorite duo but also the often overlooked Martin Carthy, who showed Paul the song in the first place. Nice gesture, and very nice arrangement of a song I love.

Over the Rainbow - Fairly straightforward and piano-driven, and I think I like it better than the version in The Wizard of Oz. Then again, I never was a big fan of Judy Garland...

Love of My Life - This is the only Simon original of the album, a quiet ode to love with guitar backing. The lyrics are cute, as she lists all sorts of rather random, silly things that she loves, from avocados to Lucy, but none of them as much as the addressee of the song.

I'll Just Remember You - Written by David Saw, who also wrote Quiet Evening, and Ben Taylor, it's a charming, simple song that closes out the album on a note of appreciation. It's a love song, but it could also work as a message of thanks to her fans, helping keep her afloat through the troubles that come with being a famous singer-songwriter. At any rate, it's a pleasant end to the album.

A nice bonus with Into White is the fact that Simon comments on each of the tracks in the liner notes, which isn't something I see a lot. It's fascinating to get a little idea of what she was thinking as she chose and recorded these songs, and her comments are insightful and often very funny. The whole album has a humble feeling to it, as she's setting out to do justice to music she admires, shining the spotlight on others as much as herself. It's a far cry from You're So Vain, but Into White is most definitely an album worth embracing.

A Thousand Different Ways - Clay Aiken

Clay Aiken offers up an album full of romance with A Thousand Different Ways.

Clay and a Jukebox Equals a Groovetacular Spectacular: Crawford County Fair, August 21, 2005

I was looking out the window Monday morning, and I couldn’t help but notice that the atmospheric conditions were ominous. A hefty breeze was buffeting about the branches of the tree in our front yard, and bloated rain clouds hovered overhead, steely and overwhelming. Not a patch of blue was to be seen. Looking back on last Saturday, I recalled that while attending a wedding reception, I caught a glimpse of the parking lot when a guest came inside, and rain was pummeling the pavement. So I felt especially fortunate that when I went to the Crawford County Fair last Sunday with my mom and my best friend, the sun was shining brightly and the sky was a glorious shade of blue – to match the eyes of the person we had driven an hour to see.

This was my third Clay Aiken concert. (Alas that I missed the Christmas tour!) The first time I saw the North Carolina crooner in concert, he was joined by most of his fellow Top 12 American Idol contestants. This meant having to suffer through many performances in which Clay played no part (and “suffer” seems especially appropriate when referring to some of the girls’ numbers *cough*Kim Caldwell*cough*). But it was a charged atmosphere, and the competitive nature of the audience made for extra entertainment. We saw fans of each of the contestants sporting homemade gear and signs (and our crew brought a couple of our own). By far the most creativity went into expressions of adoration for Clay, though, and I felt a great sense of solidarity and I allowed myself to squeal heartily whenever he took to the stage.

Last year’s concert was a bit different. I went with a different group of fans – my family – and instead of a massive indoor arena, we congregated in the grandstand of Pennsylvania’s largest county fair. Wandering around the fair, we could tell who was attending for the same reasons we were. Clay shirts, both homemade and official, were in abundance. I did my fair share of shrieking from my seat, which was dead center in the upper level of the grandstand. That is, once he came out. First an opening band took the stage, and then another half hour or so of stage rearrangement followed before Clay finally graced us with his presence.

In Crawford County, we found a similar throng of Claymates bedecked in fantastic clothing. The Clay t-shirts increased as the show time drew nearer. Near the grandstand entrance, a woman was selling teddy bears, one of which sported a t-shirt embroidered with a rainbow colored “Clay Aiken.” Fans snatched these right up, and I had to put in an order before I headed off to the show. The first nice surprise came even before we entered, when my mom learned, to our surprise, that cameras were allowed. Consequently, I wished that I had brought more film or a digital camera. But at least I had a third of a roll of film, and I was happy to be able to use that, especially when I realized just how close our seats were. I’ve never been too handy with maps, so I was unaware that I had managed to score tickets in the fifth row. Boy, was that a nice surprise! From our vantage point, we were just feet away from those lucky folks lined up for a private pre-concert audience with the man himself. While Libbie and I went off to brave the crowd at the souvenir stand – which rather disappointingly was only able to accept cash at the time – Mom got to chat with one of the Meet and Greeters after her exclusive encounter. Sounded like Clay was classy all the way. It’s quite easy to strike up a conversation at a Clay concert, and some fans display their affection so creatively that they’re just inviting all sorts of comments. Another way we occupied our time prior to the concert was by checking out the Bubel Aiken Foundation booth and volunteering our services as gift wrappers at a local store this Christmas. As the starting time of the concert drew closer, however, we made sure we were firmly in our seats. The fans sitting next to us were veterans of this tour, and they informed us that We Built This City on Rock and Roll signaled the beginning of the show. So when it came, we were ready.

The concept of the show is fun and clever, and it is especially appropriate given the fact that Clay became famous on a show where he sang mostly standards from the sixties and seventies. I love jukeboxes. When I see one in a restaurant, I am unable to resist plunking in a quarter and blasting the song of my choice across the room, perhaps to the embarrassment of my companions. It seems, however, that I am not alone in my admiration for the retro music machine. It is the central prop for this summer tour, and I walked away with the renewed impression that nothing says groovy like a jukebox. Clay’s crew got things started by accepting a quarter from an audience member and putting it in a giant jukebox in the center of the stage. When the record began to skip, they each tried their hand at fixing the problem. Then Clay came strutting out in a leather jacket, flanked by his two female backup singers, and his magic touch got the jukebox back into working order, at which point the concert could officially start.

When I first heard that Clay would be singing more than 70 songs during the Jukebox Tour, I wondered whether that meant he alternated songs. What it really meant was a lot of medleys, which allowed for a wide range of songs. The show managed to be educational as well as entertaining, giving an abbreviated history of rock and roll. The fifties was a riot, with Clay giving his feet a workout with such fare as Twistin’ the Night Away, That’ll Be the Day and Great Balls of Fire. (His fancy footwork atop the piano was especially enjoyable.) Unchained Melody, a Clay staple, got the full treatment, much to the delight of the audience. I also learned that four different versions of this song were once on the chart at the same time. Of course, it was the Righteous Brothers’ that really took off. In any case, Clay did the song justice. The second half of the decade was dedicated to another young Southern, Christian mama’s boy who inspired legions of squealing teenie-boppers. Nine Elvis songs went past quickly, starting with Love Me Tender, with Clay crooning softly while playing the piano, and ending with the upbeat Suspicious Minds.

The sixties started off with brief homage to another teen idol. Clay Aiken channeling Davy Jones is not a sight to be missed. There was also a very nice introduction to the events of the sixties and the significant role music played in a tumultuous decade. I was a bit disappointed that the list included only one Beatles song, and that of all the songs he could have chosen he went with Can’t Buy Me Love. Not very inspiring if you ask me. Perhaps Clay isn’t as suited to the Beatles as he is to Elvis, but I would have loved a mop-top medley. Motown got the most attention, and he and his backup singers did a fine job with it, but there are so many other singers I would like to have seen represented. If it were up to me, I would have lingered twice as long in this decade and dipped heavily into the folk-rock offerings as well as a wider array of pop. Nonetheless, what we got was great. This decade’s full-length highlight was Solitaire, another song that effectively sends shivers up the spine. Happy Together, My Girl and I’ll Be There were other standouts. This decade also afforded Clay the opportunity to amuse the audience with a bit of lively banter. His ease with this task was apparent as he asked how many guys in the audience had been dragged to this concert by a wife or significant other. Then he singled out one guy in the front row, who was stuck with a sign announcing that he had been hood-winked into attending this show. “She told me I was going to an Iron Maiden concert,” he complained, showing Clay his concert gear. Clay invited the couple onstage, and when further conversation revealed that they had come all the way from Columbus, Ohio, he could not contain his mirth, especially given the fact that he had given a concert there only a week or so earlier. Clay promised future participation from this gullible guy, and the hapless fellow was whisked backstage to prepare for his starring role.

The twenty-minute intermission allowed an opportunity for us to text message Clay with our cell phones. I’d never text messaged before, but I figured it out just in time for my message to appear on the giant screen where everyone’s notes were displayed as they were sent. It kept us occupied until Clay came back out for the second half of the concert, whose opening number included a cameo by a bead-wearing, afro-clad, dancing Iron Maiden fan. Disco was the main theme of the seventies. I would have loved to see more of a singer-songwriter focus; he didn’t even sing one Elton John song! But disco is always fun, and watching Clay try to make the proper moves was good for a few laughs (and a couple delighted squeals). Barry Manilow was well represented, as Clay sang Mandy all the way through, but the highlight here was Bridge Over Troubled Water, which made me very happy even with the second first missing, though it really went better with the music from the sixties. I consider that an extension of the decade. Simon and Garfunkel don’t belong to the seventies. But he did a beautiful job with my favorite song, and I was thrilled to stand up and use my cell phone in place of a lighter as the audience swayed to the music.

The first three decades covered in the concert were my favorites; that’s where pretty much all the music I listen to comes from. But the nice thing about covering so much ground is that there’s something for everybody. Libbie preferred the more recent music and was familiar with most of the songs, many of which I’d never heard before. Just as I’d hoped for Elton John, I wanted to see Billy Joel in here somewhere, but no luck. Instead, there were more modern-sounding artists including Michael Jackson and Prince and later M. C. Hammer and Ricky Martin. (Can Clay out-dance William Hung? This is the place to find out!) I was surprised to hear Iris from City of Angels, as it didn’t strike me as a Clay-sounding song, but he pulled it off very well. The concert ended with a medley of songs from Clay’s first album and a duo of songs from the upcoming third. These were pretty catchy and upbeat, a great teaser for an album we’ll have to wait several months for. Probably my favorite part of concert as it was wrapping up, however, was when he played Stump the Band. The first suggestion did stump the band, and the second one Clay couldn’t even seem to understand. But the third was When a Man Loves a Woman, and someone in the front row conveniently had the lyrics and tabs in her pocket, so the band tackled it, and Clay belted out the power ballad that was so perfectly suited to him.

The show was very solid, well over two hours of music. In addition to Clay, there was a whole team of talented musicians. Backup singers Angela Fisher, Quiana Parker and Jacob Luttrell made a particularly strong impression. Their brilliant vocals enhanced many songs and were allowed to shine solo at several points in the show. These were the same three who wowed me at last year’s concert, and it was nice to see them still on board this year. The rest of the band included S’von Ringo (musical director / keyboards), Clarence Allen (keyboards), Daniel Pearson (bass guitar), Andy Abad (guitar), Felix “D-Kat” Pollard (drums), Kerry Loeschen (trombone) and Mike Uhler (trumpet). There was very little overlap song-wise between the show I attended last year and this show. It was an entirely different experience, but equally satisfying. More so, probably, what with our extraordinarily good seats. And the humble attitude behind the concert made it all the more enjoyable. This, from the program: “I’m so excited to have a chance to remember and pay tribute to some of the hitmakers of my generation and of earlier, ‘more experienced’ generations. … I’m thrilled that you’ve chosen to join us on this ‘journey’ through some of the more memorable songs of the past.”

I’m pleased I joined him as well, and I have little doubt that one day Clay Aiken will be numbered among those timeless artists. For now, I am just grateful to have the opportunity to see him live, and I will almost certainly exercise that privilege once again when he embarks upon his second Joyful Noise Christmas tour. And maybe, just maybe, if Santa is extra kind, there will be a Meet and Greet for me in the not so distant future.

Clay Aiken's Book Shows What a True American Idol Looks Like

Learning to Sing: Hearing the Music in Your Life, Clay Aiken’s memoir which came out this week, was one of two celebrity autobiographies I eagerly awaited this fall. The first, Sean Astin’s, was enjoyable enough but a bit of a disappointment. Clay’s, however, was everything I hoped it would be. It arrived in the Waldenbooks where I work five days before the release date, and I couldn’t help but read the first couple chapters on breaks in the back room. As it turned out, I didn’t work on Tuesday or the day after, so the book was not mine until Thursday. I came home and read the rest of it in one sitting.

Clay’s book is divided into twenty chapters, each of which is broken up into many easily digestible nuggets. Rarely does an individual section last more than a couple pages, making for very easy stopping points. Each chapter bears a metaphorical title. I suspect co-writer Allison Glock assisted with these; I’m still puzzling over what exactly her contribution was and how she happened to be selected for the job. I suspect it had something to do with the fact that she wrote one of the most lyrical and complimentary articles about Clay during 2003's media blitz summer. It’s frustrating for a Claymate not to know which words are his and which were crafted by a more seasoned writer. But whether most of the words are his or hers, the result is a memoir as witty and endearing as the singer himself.

I first heard of the project in the predictably cynical Entertainment Weekly; a blurb accompanied by a Clay caricature noted that he would soon publish an “inspirational memoir” and concluded with a snide remark. I was thrilled and a bit surprised. I had no doubts that Clay had the ability to write a book, as interviews have consistently revealed him as one of the most articulate musicians in the business, but I couldn't fathom where he could find the time. A friend of mine somewhat concurred with EW's opinion, at least as far as the title was concerned. “Isn’t that title terrible?” he urged me to admit. I’ll concede it’s a title that could have been culled from interior of a Hallmark card, but a sap like me won’t complain about that. The “inspirational memoir” bit does seem a tad over the top; he could have left his readership to draw their own conclusions on that score. But Clay’s book is a triumph, and I can’t help but smile to see copies of it peeking out at me whenever I come in to work. I hope it’s up with the bestsellers as long as The Da Vinci Code and The Five People You Meet in Heaven.

All of this, and I really haven’t said much about the book yet. In the first chapter, Clay reveals his trepidation with writing this volume and his uncertainties as he adjusts to life as one of the most adulated celebrities in recent history. As I pored over the pages in the back of Waldenbooks, I struggled to stifle my laughter as his wit rose to the surface immediately with examples of sentences his mom made him write hundreds of times as a child (“I will not say Granny’s face needs ironing”) and the trials he’s had to face living in California (“avocado on all the food”). Alongside it were reminders of the class and integrity that is every bit as integral to Clay’s success as his glorious voice. The chapter concludes with welcome reassurance that success has not corrupted the gangly geek with a heart of gold; he will always strive to wield his astonishing influence in the most positive manner possible. Part of that ideal must be attributed to his mother, Faye Parker, whose moral fortitude and devotion to her son have won the hearts of Clay’s fans. The second chapter focuses mainly on their relationship, and I could not help but hear the eerily autobiographical strains of Proud of Your Boy every time Clay acknowledged his indebtedness to his mother.

The book proceeds thematically, with each chapter focusing on particular people or a certain aspect of Clay’s life after being introduced with a quote from someone who knows Clay, usually his mother. The next folks to take the spotlight are Clay’s grandparents – not only his mother’s parents, whose last names now make up Clay’s full name, but the couple who sheltered Clay and his mother after they fled the man whose name Clay would eventually forsake. Other relatives score a passing mention here, most amusingly his great-grandfather and his brother. Both were accomplished folk musicians whose repertoires, which included songs as diverse as What a Friend We Have in Jesus and Intoxicated Rat, were recorded in the Library of Congress. But the chapter deals mainly with the differences between the two sets of grandparents and Clay’s desire to balance his love for them equally. It includes what I found to be one of the most moving passages of the book, in which Clay recalls evenings listening to the Grand Ole Opry with his grandfather -- his “papa” -- before flashing forward, revealing that his grandfather now has Alzheimer’s but still knows his grandson. Instead of the Grand Ole Opry, he now listens to Clay’s CD every night. “It’s as if I am still there,” he writes, “like I was as a child, lying beside him and singing him to sleep as the darkness falls.”

Later chapters delve into his notoriously troubled relationship with his biological father, Vernon Grissom. It was painful to read about such a compassionate child being rejected by his own father, but he had already exposed that aspect of his childhood in interviews and articles so it was not a shocking revelation. I think it was more difficult to discover that he and Ray Parker, the step-father of whom Clay had always spoken with such love, did not share the wonderful father-son relationship I had envisioned. It was, in its own way, equally strained, and perhaps more tragically so as Clay seems racked with regret over a closeness they might have shared had he been more open to it. There are several points in the book in which Clay hashes out his guilt, most gut-wrenchingly when he blames his sister’s suicide on his reticence. Such entries are reminders of his humanity, his vulnerability, moments of exposure that left me with the urge to envelop him in a big bear hug until the pain has receded.

While Clay notes with gratitude the devotion of his fans, he seems uncomfortable with descriptions of him that deny the patches of darkness in his soul. “Nobody is a saint,” he writes, “and if I had a halo it would be crooked.” The book is filled with examples of childhood mischief to back this up, but it generally comes across as innocent impishness. We get a glimpse of Clay’s rotten treatment at the hands of classmates, partly because he hadn’t yet developed the self-confidence that has helped him become so successful. He fights for what he believes in, but there was a time when he didn’t like who he was. Reading about his own personal journey of becoming comfortable in his own skin – content with his talents, his ideals, his looks – was far more inspiring than seeing the much-ballyhooed makeover on television. Some producers would have us believe that a new hairdo, a pair of contacts, and some fancy duds made the world fall in love with Clay. I say he would have worked his way into just as many hearts had he continued to look like a grad school librarian. I noted with satisfaction that although the cover shots of Clay are suave and debonair, inside he more often than not looks like the boy next door. My favorite photo in the book shows him, probably in his early teens, sitting in an old-fashioned car with a shy smile and a pair of glasses that would make Rick Moranis proud. Every time he shows up for a performance or interview wearing his glasses, I revel in his willingness to remain dorky. It all helps me to think of him more as a guy I would have palled around with at school that an untouchable celebrity, which is appropriate and comforting as he is the first musician I have admired who was not famous before I was born. It's easy to imagine that we could have been friends.

When I read Sean Astin’s autobiography last month, it was really Samwise Gamgee I wanted to hear about, so while I found the whole of his memoir enjoyable enough, the only part I really cared about involved Lord of the Rings. Clay does not linger very long on his experience with American Idol, and it doesn’t bother me a bit. It wouldn’t have mattered to me if he hadn’t mentioned it at all. Though many of Clay’s detractors still fail to see it, this young man is about so much more than a phenomenally popular television program. I find every aspect of his life fascinating, and if he spends more time diving into less familiar territory, so much the better. I did find it intriguing that Clay associates the song Solitaire with his birth father; though I’ve often read speculation that Clay is thinking of his father when he sings I Survived You, the connection with Solitaire had never occurred to me. I would have been interested to hear just how it was that Clay decided upon Bridge Over Troubled Water as his show-stopping final selection. I was one of many fans praying he would sing that, my favorite song, at some point in the competition. But the limited number of pages focusing on American Idol were no disappointment.

One aspect of Clay’s life that has been evident from the beginning is his commitment to children, especially those with special needs. The book chronicles his involvement with the YMCA, which eventually led to his placement as a teacher in a classroom full of autistic children, which in turn led him to study special education in Charlotte and work with Mike Bubel, whose mother suggested he audition for American Idol and would go on to help found the Bubel/Aiken Foundation. Seeing him fall in love with a disenfranchised portion of the population was one of the most inspiring aspects of the book. The effects of his championing these children are staggering. He has become a catalyst, inspiring thousands – maybe millions – to donate their time and money to worthy causes. As one who spent much of his childhood picked on by his peers, Clay now urges everyone to practice tolerance and inclusion.

Clay has managed to reach fans across a broad demographic. Many of his fans come from a Christian background, and sites such as claytonaiken.com, host of one of the first and largest forums dedicated to Clay, dub his faith one of his most laudable characteristics. Clay documents his struggle to remain a role model when fame has handed him opportunities to toss his integrity out the window. “If I’m going to remain a decent human being,” he writes, “it’s really up to me.” But he freely admits he doesn’t smoke, drink, swear or womanize, and it doesn’t appear he has any desire to. He refused to back down when RCA tried to fill his album with lyrics presenting messages that were less than G-rated. He included an overtly religious song – You Were There – in his set list during his first solo tour. But he doesn’t pretend to have all the answers. In spite of his deep faith in God, he became discouraged with church and stopped attending for a time. He wrestles with some of the methods and messages of his fellow Christians. “To me, God is about love, not condemnation,” he writes, striking the perfect balance between his faith and his desire to embrace all people. “I sincerely hope that people whom I love and care about who might be Jewish or Muslim or have different faiths and structure systems than I do also find peace in heaven. And I don’t think it’s my place to tell them they’re not going to.” Amen.

I left the book with a renewed appreciation for the unique, talented, passionate, compassionate gentleman who is Clay Aiken. I can’t wait to see what he does with the rest of his life. Whatever happens, I know that Clay’s time in the spotlight is far from up and the good ripples he causes will continue to expand. “My goal is to be triumphant in using where I am to do something bigger than what I am,” he writes. May God grant him a long and happy life doing just that.

It's Clay. It's Christmas. How Can You Go Wrong?

It’s that time of year again, when every store you go into blasts Christmas music in your ears until you think you’re going to throw up if you ever hear the names Rudolph or Frosty again. Unless you’re like me, and you can’t get enough of it. I’m always the first one in the family to want to listen to Christmas music. Thanksgiving isn’t soon enough to break out the Rocky Mountain Christmas and Christmas With the Chipmunks. The ever-expanding nature of the Christmas season has its drawbacks, but walking out into the crisp fall air with Mannheim Steamroller jingling around in my brain can only serve to improve my mood.

So when I heard that Clay Aiken, the young singer whose performances and personality swept me off my feet during the second season of American Idol, was releasing a Christmas album, I was duly excited. While I had found his first album a bit disappointing – though the songs have grown on me over the past year – I loved the Christmas album released by several Idol alumni. Clay’s rendition of The First Noel gave me the chills I had come to expect his powerful pipes to inspire. After the over-production of his album, the sparse arrangement was just what his voice needed to shine, and the classic material certainly didn’t hurt. With an entire album of songs like this, how could he go wrong? This time, I was not disappointed.

O Holy Night – This powerhouse ballad has always been one of my favorite Christmas songs. When done properly, it has serious shiver potential, and from the beginning it was the one Christmas song I most wanted to hear Clay sing. All its high notes and crescendoes, not to mention the inspiring lyrics, are perfectly suited to his voice. He rises to the challenge and brings to song to a thrilling climax with his trademark “glory note.” The arrangement is mostly piano-driven with a bit of a choral background coming in later. The slight changes he makes to the melody – particularly on “fall on your knees, oh hear the angels’ voices” – help distinguish his version, and it’s certainly in the running for my favorite rendition of this song.

Winter Wonderland – I wasn’t crazy about this number on the American Idol compilation, though I review in the newspaper marked it as the standout track with Christina Christian’s vocals the most outstanding of the bunch. Actually, it seems to me I may have heard that Simon Cowell said that, which would be very surprising given his disdain for impersonations; she sounded just like Marilyn Monroe. At any rate, I like Clay’s version a lot better. It’s just a straightforward take on a Christmas classic, complete with both verses; it seems like I always hear either one or another, and my dad said he’s never heard the second verse before at all. They do strike me more as alternate options than complementary verses, but it works.

Silent Night – There’s a slight guitar presence here, but most of Clay’s accompaniment comes in the form of a very angelic-sounding choir which even takes the lead for a while. I don’t mind, though; it just makes his re-entry more dramatic. A very heartfelt and rich rendition of what is perhaps the most classic Christmas carol of all.

Hark the Herald Angels Sing / O Come All Ye Faithful – A very pleasant duo of songs giving Clay a chance to flex those vocal muscles again after the sedate Silent Night. The latter was one of the group songs on the American Idol album and provided a preview of Clay’s performance here. The choir is featured in prominence in Hark, while Faithful is Clay’s chance to milk his flair for dramatic singing for all it’s worth.

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas – Having just read the first two chapters of Clay’s book, it strikes me that this song, with its smooth jazzy flavor – complete with a nifty sax solo – and submerged dark undertones may be especially appropriate given his tumultuous childhood. Troubles weren’t always far away, but Christmas was an opportunity to focus on people who cared about him and the God who sustained him.

Mary, Did You Know – I’d never heard this song before my senior year in high school, when it was the theme of our Christmas program. I seem to remember it being longer. I don’t know whether he cut it or it was extended for the ballet that accompanied it in high school. Maybe I just remember it wrong. At any rate, it’s a quiet, contemplative song that flashes forward to different events in Jesus’ life. Clay does a great job with it, though I’m not crazy about the accompaniment, which sounds like one of the cheesy background tracks on the little Casio keyboard I used to have. My favorite part is the bridge, during which Clay goes into over-the-top mode again and the percussion momentarily disappears.

Joy to the World – This is another song with heavy choral involvement. I’m pretty sure it’s a choir that hasn’t appeared on the CD up to this point. The really drive the song and may even have more singing to do than Clay does. Tobe honest they're a bit harsh at time, and it's on the low end in my ranking of songs on this album. Still, the tone is appropriately jubilant and Clay manages to sneak in another glory note at the end.

The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire) – Another song with a jazzy feel to it. Piano is the prominent instrument here, and to be honest I feel like I’ve heard this exact accompaniment before. So nothing new here, but he sings the song well. Just a thought: What were the folks who named this song thinking? Were they incredibly pompous or just not too bright? These are all Christmas songs; did they think theirs was more Christmassy than any other? It’s a good thing they have that subtitle at least...

Don’t Save it All for Christmas Day – I’m sure I’ve heard this song before, but I’m not sure where. I was unaware that Celine Dion had written it. It’s one of the less familiar tunes on the album, and it has a very good message to it. Clay really goes to town on the choruses – most notably with an impossibly long note coming into the third chorus – and it seems like a very good song for him considering the way he has inspired people to volunteer work, charitable giving and random acts of kindness. I also just heard he’s been selected as an ambassador for UNICEF, so he’ll be taking his humanitarian energy around the globe.

Merry Christmas With Love – The only place I’d heard this title song before was online from a performance of Clay’s on a local show several years ago. So I would call it the closest thing to a signature song on this album. It tells the tale of a disenfranchised and lonely woman whose depressing holiday is uplifted by the presence of a caring troupe of carolers at her door and serves as a companion to the song preceding it.

Sleigh Ride – Perhaps these last two songs were included especially for Clay’s multitudinous female fans. Both are romantic in nature, and most Claymates would probably be thrilled to imagine they’re the ones being invited to share a sleigh ride or New Year’s Eve with Clay. This song has a special place in my heart because I was part of the school orchestra senior year in high school, and this was my most exhausting number in the Christmas show. My primary duty was to provide the steady beat of jingle bells, but I also had to crack the whip – basically a piece of wood attached to another piece of wood with a hinge – and, if I recall, ding the triangle. I was disappointed at the lack of sleigh bells in Clay’s rendition, but it’s still a lot of fun.

What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve – This is another jazzy song, very slow and smooth. It hearkens back to Invisible, a guy hopelessly smitten and feeling as though the one he loves will never acknowledge him. At least in this case he gets up the guts to ask; or is he just practicing in front of his mirror for an encounter that will never occur? Anyway, an enjoyable song.

Clay’s album is a simple collection of Christmas standards. In spite of the mix of sacred and secular holiday tunes, the overwhelming tone of the album is religious. I feel like Clay had more control over the project this time and the results are exactly what I would want in a Christmas album or a Clay album. The classy holiday-themed photos of Clay inside the cover only sweeten the deal; I'm especially fond of the contemplative pose facing the info for The Christmas Song and Joy to the World. I mentioned a signature song before, and it would be nice if this album had one that either Clay had written or that had been written specifically for him. Virtually all of my favorite Christmas albums have them: John Denver’s Apenglow and A Baby Just Like You, Neil Diamond’s You Make it Feel Like Christmas, Peter Paul and Mary’s The Magi and Don’t Let the Light Go Out... even Alvin and the Chipmunks’The Chipmunk Song. But aside from that, it’s a wonderful album and I wouldn’t be at all surprised to hear it blasting from the mall radio shortly after Thanksgiving. I wouldn’t be at all upset either.