Around this time last year, I bought In Time,
the debut album of Celtic Thunder’s Ryan Kelly, from the folks at CD
Baby, an online music store focusing on indie artists. Because of this, I
started getting e-mails from them, and one that I received late last
year caught my attention. Although I’d never heard of Ricky Fitzpatrick,
I was intrigued by their description of him as a James Taylor
sound-alike, and since his MP3-format-only album was being offered for a
mere three dollars on Black Friday, I decided to check him out. Acoustically Christmas
is a nice, mellow collection of songs that make for pleasant Christmas
listening, especially since Fitzpatrick does indeed sound remarkably
like James Taylor.
Fitzpatrick,
a devout Baptist based in Georgia, focuses on the spiritual side of the
season with quiet guitar-based arrangements of traditional carols. Ten
of the tracks feature familiar favorites presented in a reflective
manner, several with choral elements. What Child Is This is slow-paced with a gentle chorus mingling with the guitar in the background; O Come Emmanuel, a pure a cappella track, is even slower and plays with the melody a bit as the deep voices blend, almost chant-like.
Other songs are more upbeat, like the warmly cheerful Joy to the World and the strummy Little Drummer Boy. I love the guitar work and some of the harmonies on God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, and the largely instrumental Silent Night has a rather unusual sound to it. The First Noel,
the only purely instrumental track, is up-tempo with a bit of a jazzy
flavor, and Will Taylor (no relation to James) joins in on Angels We Have Heard on High. It Came Upon a Midnight Clear and Little Town of Bethlehem are pretty straightforward without any really distinguishing features.
Whenever
I pick up a Christmas album, I’m especially interested in songs that
are unique to it. We have three tracks like that here. Fitzpatrick wrote
O What A Song, a song of praise imagining the celestial and
earthly chorus greeting Christ’s birth. This duet with Nathan Sheppard,
who, like Will Taylor, is a Georgia musician, has a very joyful quality
to it. The tone in Lullaby for a King, also by Fitzpatrick, is
quieter and almost a bit muffled; it’s a little hard to catch all the
words the first couple of times around. Similar in theme to O What a Song but more on the contemplative side of things.
God's Song
- Twice as long as any of the others, this final track isn’t actually a
song but is rather a reflection on the idea of God singing: “The song
of God is a simple song; it starts with God and it ends with Jesus.” As
Fitzpatrick gives what amounts to a sermon that turns into an altar call
of sorts, guitar plays in the background. There’s no particular melody;
it’s just rambly ambient music that acts as a nice mellowing agent,
though at times it’s a bit distracting. Overall, it’s a nice message
that closes with a Merry Christmas greeting. It’s neat to hear where he
is coming from, though it’s probably good that he put this track on the
end, since you probably don’t really want to listen to a nearly
nine-minute-long meditation every time you’re in the mood for some
acoustic Christmas carols.
The album’s liner notes are a bit
vague, so I’m not sure in what respect some of the musicians he mentions
were involved in the recording process, but he acknowledges several,
including Michael Card, my favorite singer-songwriter in the Contemporary Christian Music genre, and Livingston Taylor, the brother of James Taylor. Acoustically Christmas
doesn’t offer a whole lot of variety, but if you’re looking for a
reverent collection of Christmas Eve service standards, this is a great
collection.
Reviews and essays, including all my reviews posted on Epinions from 2000 to 2014.
Showing posts with label Michael Card. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michael Card. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Friday, February 18, 2011
Rich Mullins Explores the Sublime and Mundane in Winds of Heaven, Stuff of Earth
I grew up Lutheran, and although my parents and I have always been
active in our church, my exposure to artists who fall within the scope
of Contemporary Christian Music has been rather limited. My musical
upbringing consisted mostly of 60s and 70s folk-rock: John Denver, Simon and Garfunkel, Jim Croce, the Irish Rovers, Gordon Lightfoot, Peter Paul and Mary, Dan Fogelberg, Michael Martin Murphey…
The list goes on. I’ve never found their music, at least most of it,
inconsistent with Christianity, and some of their songs quite frankly
feel like hymns, so I guess I never felt the need to gravitate away from
that genre. But I have found myself drawn to some artists in the
specifically Christian scene whose lyrical excellence and careful
craftsmanship is matched only by their devotion to the God of whom they
sing.
One of those singer-songwriters is Rich Mullins, a man of extraordinary depth and talent who tragically died in a car accident in 1997. Best known for praise standards like Awesome God and Step By Step, he wrote in a manner that always felt deeply personal but widely applicable. In Winds of Heaven, Stuff of Earth, released in 1988, one gets a good sense of his style and an introduction to two of his most well-known songs. Additionally, Michael W. Smith, a prominent Contemporary Christian artist in his own right, plays the piano here, so he has a major hand in my favorite of Mullins’ songs. While I would probably direct a first-time listener to one of his later albums, this still isn’t a bad place to start.
The Other Side of the World - A peppy guitar-driven song to start off the album. It begins with a chorus of children chanting in what sounds like an African language and incorporates percussion and synthesizers evoking that continent. It’s a song acknowledging that “it’s a small world, after all,” but still a big job to bridge those gaps. A rallying cry to share both faith and food with those in distant lands. “The other side of the world is not so far away, and the distance just dissolves into the love…”
With the Wonder - This one starts out hushed and reverent, and the quiet celebration of nature’s beauty reminds me of the weekends I spend with my family at Little Pine Valley in Central Pennsylvania. After the first verse, the percussion kicks in and the tempo picks up, and it becomes another track with a tone of exultation. It’s a song of thanks to God for the wonders of creation, which are reflected in the flurry of words he chooses to describe them. His poetic flourish is evident here, as is a sense that he feels even the most expansive lexicon would be insufficient to capture the majesty of what he sees. “It flutters and floats, it falls and it climbs, it spins and sputters and spurts, and You filled this world with wonders ‘round every turn…”
Awesome God - If you spent much time in a church in the late 1980s or 1990s, chances are that you heard this song. And once you’ve heard it, you’re unlikely to forget it; this one has a way of drilling down into your brain and never leaving. The chorus is repeated enough times that just one listen would probably do it, but this was a staple at my church for many years. We’d play the recording, and even more often, we’d only sing the chorus, complete with motions. For several years, it seemed that this was the hottest song in all of Christendom, and boy, did it catch fire! It really is a great tune, with its Gospel-flavored piano and earnest verses but mostly that chorus. Oh, that chorus. I’m an 80s child, and thanks in part to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, “awesome” is a word I always think of in association with that decade. It was a fun word, a laid-back word, a cool word. A word I might use to describe anything ranging from a Christmas present to a slice of pizza. Finding this word in a hymn was a little funny to me, but there was something encouraging about God being described in such hip, youthful language. Of course, it also served as a reminder that God is immeasurably more worthy of awe than the fast food I ate while watching TV after school. This song introduced me to Rich Mullins, and I’m very glad it did. “Our God is an awesome God. He reigns from Heaven above with wisdom, power and love. Our God is an awesome God!”
If I Stand - While Awesome God was the first of his songs I encountered, I didn’t become familiar with the man behind the song until a while later. When I did, this mellow masterpiece was the one that most captured my imagination, and though he has others that come close, it remains my favorite of his songs. Like With the Wonder, this is filled with expressions of the sense of wonder that nature inspires, along with the happiness to be found in human relationships. Coupled with the brilliantly melodic piano backing, the verses are breathtakingly beautiful. But it’s the chorus, with its palpable sense of yearning, that cements the song as my favorite, calling to mind the C. S. Lewis quote, "If I discover within myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world." This is the song I most associate with Rich Mullins, in part because, like Jim Croce’s Time in a Bottle, it feels so much more poignant in light of his early death. “If I stand, let me stand on the promise that You will pull me through, and if I can’t, let me fall on the grace that first brought me to You. And if I sing, let me sing for the joy that has born in me these songs, and if I weep, let it be as a man who is longing for his home.”
Home - This keyboard-driven song has a definite 80s feel to it. Musically, this song doesn’t grab me as much as many of the others, but the lyrics are a stirring testimonial of the trials of life, the challenges of faith and the glory of finishing the race. “What I’d have settled for, You’ve blown so far away. What You brought me to, I thought I could not reach. And I came so close to giving up, but You never did give up on me.”
Such a Thing As Glory - An upbeat song that points to there being something greater than what we see and experience every day. Like If I Stand, it makes me think of Plato and his cave, and the idea that we’re only catching glimpses of a grander reality. Some neat instrumentation adds to the impression of mystery, while the background vocals increase the sense of jubilation. “There is such a thing as glory, and there are hints of it everywhere. And the hints are overwhelming, and its scent is in the air.”
…And I Love You - Another uptempo song with a bit of a rock feel to it. This one is a celebration of the sacraments of baptism and communion and the feeling of closeness with God that results. “There’s a different kind of tear now in my eye, a response to a freer wind that’s blowing in a bigger sky.”
Ready For the Storm - I seem to be drawn to songs about navigating stormy weather, whether it’s figurative (Bridge Over Troubled Water), literal (Heartland) or both (Candle on the Water). This song - the only one on the album that Mullins didn’t have a hand in writing - fits in nicely with this tradition of songs, with a guitar and fiddle base that gives it a bit of the flavor of a Celtic sea shanty. A stirring track that speaks of a willingness to face life’s storms, knowing that God is in control. “The waves crash in the tide rolls out. It's an angry sea but there is no doubt that the lighthouse will keep shining out to warn a lonely sailor…”
One True Love - Another percussion-heavy song that feels pretty 80s to me. Mullins talks of no other love satisfying like God’s will and wanting to share that love with everybody. A little hard-rockin’ for me, but it’s got some great lines. “And I heard the words of a wise man. He said, ‘There’s only two ways you can go. One way can save your riches, and the other will save your soul.’”
How Can I Keep Myself From Singing - The title of this one calls to mind the old hymn How Can I Keep From Singing?, while the percussion gives a world music vibe to it, making the album come full circle. The song mostly consists of repetitions of “Hallelujah,” with the aid of several vocalists, giving the sense that this is a song sung by many people of faith throughout the world. “I feel my heart; my heart is beating. It has a rhythm strong and sure, and in the name that brought me healing, I pray for a healing of this world.”
A few of these songs feel a bit dated now, but on the whole, the album holds up very well, and I’d eagerly recommend it to anyone looking for well-crafted music that glorifies God. When I’m in the mood for music that offers insightful explorations of the Bible, I think first of Michael Card, but for delving into the daily struggles and rewards of faith, Mullins is the artist that springs to mind right away. What a shame he left us so soon; what a joy he left us such a legacy.
One of those singer-songwriters is Rich Mullins, a man of extraordinary depth and talent who tragically died in a car accident in 1997. Best known for praise standards like Awesome God and Step By Step, he wrote in a manner that always felt deeply personal but widely applicable. In Winds of Heaven, Stuff of Earth, released in 1988, one gets a good sense of his style and an introduction to two of his most well-known songs. Additionally, Michael W. Smith, a prominent Contemporary Christian artist in his own right, plays the piano here, so he has a major hand in my favorite of Mullins’ songs. While I would probably direct a first-time listener to one of his later albums, this still isn’t a bad place to start.
The Other Side of the World - A peppy guitar-driven song to start off the album. It begins with a chorus of children chanting in what sounds like an African language and incorporates percussion and synthesizers evoking that continent. It’s a song acknowledging that “it’s a small world, after all,” but still a big job to bridge those gaps. A rallying cry to share both faith and food with those in distant lands. “The other side of the world is not so far away, and the distance just dissolves into the love…”
With the Wonder - This one starts out hushed and reverent, and the quiet celebration of nature’s beauty reminds me of the weekends I spend with my family at Little Pine Valley in Central Pennsylvania. After the first verse, the percussion kicks in and the tempo picks up, and it becomes another track with a tone of exultation. It’s a song of thanks to God for the wonders of creation, which are reflected in the flurry of words he chooses to describe them. His poetic flourish is evident here, as is a sense that he feels even the most expansive lexicon would be insufficient to capture the majesty of what he sees. “It flutters and floats, it falls and it climbs, it spins and sputters and spurts, and You filled this world with wonders ‘round every turn…”
Awesome God - If you spent much time in a church in the late 1980s or 1990s, chances are that you heard this song. And once you’ve heard it, you’re unlikely to forget it; this one has a way of drilling down into your brain and never leaving. The chorus is repeated enough times that just one listen would probably do it, but this was a staple at my church for many years. We’d play the recording, and even more often, we’d only sing the chorus, complete with motions. For several years, it seemed that this was the hottest song in all of Christendom, and boy, did it catch fire! It really is a great tune, with its Gospel-flavored piano and earnest verses but mostly that chorus. Oh, that chorus. I’m an 80s child, and thanks in part to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, “awesome” is a word I always think of in association with that decade. It was a fun word, a laid-back word, a cool word. A word I might use to describe anything ranging from a Christmas present to a slice of pizza. Finding this word in a hymn was a little funny to me, but there was something encouraging about God being described in such hip, youthful language. Of course, it also served as a reminder that God is immeasurably more worthy of awe than the fast food I ate while watching TV after school. This song introduced me to Rich Mullins, and I’m very glad it did. “Our God is an awesome God. He reigns from Heaven above with wisdom, power and love. Our God is an awesome God!”
If I Stand - While Awesome God was the first of his songs I encountered, I didn’t become familiar with the man behind the song until a while later. When I did, this mellow masterpiece was the one that most captured my imagination, and though he has others that come close, it remains my favorite of his songs. Like With the Wonder, this is filled with expressions of the sense of wonder that nature inspires, along with the happiness to be found in human relationships. Coupled with the brilliantly melodic piano backing, the verses are breathtakingly beautiful. But it’s the chorus, with its palpable sense of yearning, that cements the song as my favorite, calling to mind the C. S. Lewis quote, "If I discover within myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world." This is the song I most associate with Rich Mullins, in part because, like Jim Croce’s Time in a Bottle, it feels so much more poignant in light of his early death. “If I stand, let me stand on the promise that You will pull me through, and if I can’t, let me fall on the grace that first brought me to You. And if I sing, let me sing for the joy that has born in me these songs, and if I weep, let it be as a man who is longing for his home.”
Home - This keyboard-driven song has a definite 80s feel to it. Musically, this song doesn’t grab me as much as many of the others, but the lyrics are a stirring testimonial of the trials of life, the challenges of faith and the glory of finishing the race. “What I’d have settled for, You’ve blown so far away. What You brought me to, I thought I could not reach. And I came so close to giving up, but You never did give up on me.”
Such a Thing As Glory - An upbeat song that points to there being something greater than what we see and experience every day. Like If I Stand, it makes me think of Plato and his cave, and the idea that we’re only catching glimpses of a grander reality. Some neat instrumentation adds to the impression of mystery, while the background vocals increase the sense of jubilation. “There is such a thing as glory, and there are hints of it everywhere. And the hints are overwhelming, and its scent is in the air.”
…And I Love You - Another uptempo song with a bit of a rock feel to it. This one is a celebration of the sacraments of baptism and communion and the feeling of closeness with God that results. “There’s a different kind of tear now in my eye, a response to a freer wind that’s blowing in a bigger sky.”
Ready For the Storm - I seem to be drawn to songs about navigating stormy weather, whether it’s figurative (Bridge Over Troubled Water), literal (Heartland) or both (Candle on the Water). This song - the only one on the album that Mullins didn’t have a hand in writing - fits in nicely with this tradition of songs, with a guitar and fiddle base that gives it a bit of the flavor of a Celtic sea shanty. A stirring track that speaks of a willingness to face life’s storms, knowing that God is in control. “The waves crash in the tide rolls out. It's an angry sea but there is no doubt that the lighthouse will keep shining out to warn a lonely sailor…”
One True Love - Another percussion-heavy song that feels pretty 80s to me. Mullins talks of no other love satisfying like God’s will and wanting to share that love with everybody. A little hard-rockin’ for me, but it’s got some great lines. “And I heard the words of a wise man. He said, ‘There’s only two ways you can go. One way can save your riches, and the other will save your soul.’”
How Can I Keep Myself From Singing - The title of this one calls to mind the old hymn How Can I Keep From Singing?, while the percussion gives a world music vibe to it, making the album come full circle. The song mostly consists of repetitions of “Hallelujah,” with the aid of several vocalists, giving the sense that this is a song sung by many people of faith throughout the world. “I feel my heart; my heart is beating. It has a rhythm strong and sure, and in the name that brought me healing, I pray for a healing of this world.”
A few of these songs feel a bit dated now, but on the whole, the album holds up very well, and I’d eagerly recommend it to anyone looking for well-crafted music that glorifies God. When I’m in the mood for music that offers insightful explorations of the Bible, I think first of Michael Card, but for delving into the daily struggles and rewards of faith, Mullins is the artist that springs to mind right away. What a shame he left us so soon; what a joy he left us such a legacy.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Andrew Clements and Kate Kiesler imagine a Heavenly Perspective in Bright Christmas: An Angel Remembers
Angels often appear in Christmas picture books, but usually as secondary
characters, almost an afterthought in a succession of Nativity
characters. But in Andrew Clements’ Bright Christmas: An Angel Remembers,
illustrated by Kate Kiesler, an angel serves as the narrator, and he
speaks for the angelic host at large, painting a poetic picture of their
role in the centuries leading up to Jesus’ birth and their perspective
on that event now.
Kiesler’s magnificent paintings fill 13 two-page spreads. One spread, showing Joseph and Mary departing from the inn, features no words at all, but all of the others are accompanied by what I would term one verse, though the length of these verses varies widely from three to 16 lines. There’s an air of holy mystery about the angelic perspective; the narrator explains that time is rather meaningless in Heaven but that one particular night stands out above all others. “Once I sing a song, the song never stops,” he writes. “It’s like a star that burns forever. / Christmas is the brightest / and the happiest song I ever sang.”
The long period of time covered in the book, and the theme of song, reminds me of The Lord of the Dance, in which Jesus, as speaker, begins by stating, “I danced on the morning when the world began, / I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun...” The angel mentions specific figures in the Old Testament: Moses, David, Isaiah, each getting the world one step closer to the arrival of the Messiah.
Kiesler’s paintings are gorgeous, luminous and rich in detail. A note in the back explains how attentive she was to archaeological accuracy, particularly in the matter of the inn, which is a “kataluma,” or temporary shelter, and the stable, which is a cave. Two of the paintings reminds me of Michael Card songs. The shepherds reacting in awe to the angels’ message calls to mind the gentle Shepherd’ Watch, while the close-up on Mary’s illuminated face goes perfectly with What Her Heart Remembered. Both songs come from his Christmas album The Promise.
We don’t actually see angels at any time, but they are artistically represented by doves or, in a couple of cases, a single feather. Probably to emphasize Mary’s closeness to God, Kiesler paints her with a dove necklace. Also appearing on almost every page are stars, which serve as reminders of light and of antiquity.
Bright Christmas: An Angel Remembers is a beautiful book. I’d recommend it particularly for Sunday School libraries, along with the homes of those who believe that “That night, a light was lit like no other.”
Kiesler’s magnificent paintings fill 13 two-page spreads. One spread, showing Joseph and Mary departing from the inn, features no words at all, but all of the others are accompanied by what I would term one verse, though the length of these verses varies widely from three to 16 lines. There’s an air of holy mystery about the angelic perspective; the narrator explains that time is rather meaningless in Heaven but that one particular night stands out above all others. “Once I sing a song, the song never stops,” he writes. “It’s like a star that burns forever. / Christmas is the brightest / and the happiest song I ever sang.”
The long period of time covered in the book, and the theme of song, reminds me of The Lord of the Dance, in which Jesus, as speaker, begins by stating, “I danced on the morning when the world began, / I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun...” The angel mentions specific figures in the Old Testament: Moses, David, Isaiah, each getting the world one step closer to the arrival of the Messiah.
Kiesler’s paintings are gorgeous, luminous and rich in detail. A note in the back explains how attentive she was to archaeological accuracy, particularly in the matter of the inn, which is a “kataluma,” or temporary shelter, and the stable, which is a cave. Two of the paintings reminds me of Michael Card songs. The shepherds reacting in awe to the angels’ message calls to mind the gentle Shepherd’ Watch, while the close-up on Mary’s illuminated face goes perfectly with What Her Heart Remembered. Both songs come from his Christmas album The Promise.
We don’t actually see angels at any time, but they are artistically represented by doves or, in a couple of cases, a single feather. Probably to emphasize Mary’s closeness to God, Kiesler paints her with a dove necklace. Also appearing on almost every page are stars, which serve as reminders of light and of antiquity.
Bright Christmas: An Angel Remembers is a beautiful book. I’d recommend it particularly for Sunday School libraries, along with the homes of those who believe that “That night, a light was lit like no other.”
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Sing We Now of Christmas: Join Me in Celebrating the Songs of the Season!
One of my favorite aspects of the end of the year is listening to
Christmas music. I'm one of those people who has endless tolerance for
these seasonal tunes, though generally I discipline myself and only
listen to them for about two months so as to enhance my appreciation for
them the next time around. I have a thick stack of Christmas albums at
home, and every year I happily pull them out - though for the third year
running, a local radio station has provided all Christmas music, all
the time, decreasing my motivation to put the old favorites into
rotation. There's something exhilarating about stumbling upon a song I
absolutely love when I'm not expecting it. I have the radio tuned to the
sounds of the season as often as possible, and whether I'm putting away
stock at work or dozing away in my bed, there are certain songs that
always cause me to stop for a moment just to listen (and maybe, if I am
sufficiently unaccompanied, sing along). Below is a list of my favorite
non-traditional Christmas songs; most are ones I regularly hear on the
radio, but I've also included a few that ought to be in the rotation.
Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men
What better time than Christmas to try to embrace our better natures and build a bridge to a brighter tomorrow?
Do They Know It's Christmas? - This hit single released in the early 80s by a group of pop stars going by the name Band Aid is every bit as timely today as it was then. It's an important reminder of how many people there are living in hunger and poverty in the world. The focus is on Africa, though the sentiment could be expanded to encompass other continents as well. The point is to look at "the world outside your window" and do something constructive about its problems. The song is a little simplistic, and watching the video with its line-up of 80s idols with bad hair is rather amusing, but songwriter Bob Geldof's efforts to raise global consciousness are admirable, and it also happens to be one of the catchiest songs on the radio this time of year. The pounding percussion! The resonant tolling of bells! The searing accusation by Bono! Boy George's eerily feminine pipes joyfully encouraging us, "Throw your arms around the world at Christmastime!" Why, thank you... I think I will!
Happy Xmas (War Is Over) - While we're on the subject of saving the world, I must let John Lennon have his say. I first heard this song on Neil Diamond's Christmas album; when I finally heard the original, I was surprised at how similar the arrangements were. I've since heard another version that is also nearly identical. It's a very simple song, but the counter-melody is such a perfect complement to the main vocals that any embellishments would detract from its power. Like much of Lennon's work, it advocates peace, and the choir of children is representative of a hope that future generations will better learn how to live with one another. It too is sadly as appropriate today as when it was written, with its pleading mantra of "War is over if you want it." While there's no acknowledgment of the divine in this song, at least there's not the sense that Lennon was bashing religion (which I must admit he did a bit in Imagine), and I can't see anything anti-Christian about his desire for brotherhood. This is my favorite song from Lennon's solo career.
Someday at Christmas - I couldn't tell you when it was that I first heard this song, but last year was when I really took notice of it. When I finally looked it up, I felt like a dolt because I'd thought the song was sung by a woman, when in fact those were the dulcet tones of Stevie Wonder I'd been hearing. He has several songs in the regular holiday rotation, and I like them all, but this is my favorite by far. Its basic message is very similar to Happy XMas, expressing optimism that people can refrain from violence. The melody is beautiful, and while the provocative first line - "Someday at Christmas, men won't be boys playing with bombs like kids play with toys" - is quiet and backed with instrumentation vaguely reminiscent of a music box, it builds in intensity, with choral backing and lots of soulful vocals, particularly on the wistful line, "Maybe not in time for you and me, but someday at Christmastime."
Light One Candle - I never hear this one on the radio, and more's the pity. This is one of two outstanding songs penned by Peter Yarrow that appear on our well-worn Peter Paul and Mary Christmas album. The Magi (The Heart of Man's a Palace) is just as fantastic, but Light One Candle sticks in my head more, probably because it's generally accompanied by a crowd of glowing lights from the audience. Additionally, they don't restrict its use to Christmas concerts. This is actually a Hanukkah song, with specific references to the Maccabees and the central metaphor of ever-burning candles, but it's an anthem that's also intended to reach further than that. It's a universal call to keep (or find) the faith; by the time they get everyone in attendance singing along in jubilation, the burden and promise of justice prevailing feels tangible.
Something About Christmas Time - Easily confused with Jon Bon Jovi's I Wish Every Day Could Be Like Christmas, which is nearly as good, Bryan Adams' song, like most in this category, intensifies as it goes on. He's joined by an inspiring chorus, and there's just enough of a rock edge to this song to make me want to do a fist pump in time to the Christmas bells that chime in partway through. Another song that urges everyone to let Christmas seep into their hearts. "I know it's not too late. The world would be a better place if we can keep the spirit more than one day in the year. Send a message loud and clear."
Snoopy's Christmas - This should probably go with the novelty songs, but while some might find a sound effects-laden song about Flying Ace Snoopy to be a little hard to take seriously, I can't help but find it heartwarming. It's a very peppy song, augmented by a military drum roll, an austere recitation of O Tannenbaum and some very cheery-sounding bells. In part, I take the song as a tribute to the 1914 Christmas truce between German and British troops; in any event, it's a joyful narrative about the wonder of Christmas yielding compassion from unexpected sources. The implication? If these foes can bury the hatchet for the day, why not everyone else? Plus, it's awfully fun to hear those Royal Guardsmen growl, "the Bloody Red Baron!"
Christmas 1915 - Speaking of the Christmas truce, I discovered this gem after compiling this list. Written by Cormac McConnell, it was recently recorded by the group Celtic Thunder, whose members harmonize gorgeously in this haunting account of a fleeting peace and the carnage that followed. Exhilarating. Heartbreaking. And my favorite new Christmas song of 2008. "Silent night. No cannons roar. / A king is born of peace forevermore. / All's calm, all's bright, / All brothers hand in hand / In 19 and 15 in No Man's Land."
A New York Christmas - This is a 2010 discovery thanks to the mall radio. This inspring anthem has a rock edge to it and a melody that grabbed me from the first time I heard it and just wouldn't let me go. It captures both the grit and glory of New York City in this time of year, and its plea for an open-hearted response to the disenfranchised of society is just the sort of rallying cry that's needed in a too-often apathetic age. "Call on your angels, come down from the city. / Crowd around the big tree, all you strangers who know me. / Bring your compassion, your understanding. / Lord, how we need it on this New York City Christmas."
In the City of David...
While many contemporary Christmas songs focus on the general joy of the season and often sidestep the Nativity altogether, several are specific to the first Christmas. These are some of my favorites.
Mary's Boy Child - This one is borderline traditional. My aunt once performed it in a choir concert, and we sang it during a Sunday School Christmas program several years back (when I was incensed at the insistence upon replacing "man" in the chorus with the gender-neutral, dorky-sounding "folks"). Still, I can't quite lump it together with sing-along favorites like Joy to the World, Angels We Have Heard on High and The First Noel, in part because I consider there to be only one definitive version of this song, and that's Boney M's. A typical group of carolers just can't replicate the energy and exuberance of their rendition, which never fails to leave me grinning from ear to ear. It helps that there's so much going on in the song, particularly towards the end, when the spiritual Oh My Lord is expertly incorporated. The harmonies are wonderful, the energy infectious, the steel drums and Caribbean accents irresistible. Simply one of the happiest Christmas songs I can think of. "Hark now hear the angels sing, a king is born today, and man will live forevermore because of Christmas day!"
The Gift - When I first heard this song on the radio last year, it stopped me dead in my tracks. I immediately turned up the volume and stood riveted to this gentle story of an impoverished young girl who nurses an injured bird back to health just in time for the grand presentation of gifts at the local church. While the version I've heard is a cover, it's so exquisite I have no great desire to listen to the original. The singer is Aselin Debison, a young girl herself, and the purity of her voice perfectly matches the innocence of the young protagonist. One thing I love about this song is the fact that it's narrative; not only that, it has no chorus, instead wandering along gradually through the verses in a refreshingly unhurried manner. Its first eight lines are a cappella, which accentuates the beauty of Debison's voice and renders the guitars that serve as the first accompaniment all the more beautiful. Even more lovely is the flute toward the end, which is meant to imitate birdsong. Basically, this is yet another variation on The Little Drummer Boy, which has essentially spawned a sub-genre among Christmas tales; it's particularly similar to the picture book The Most Precious Gift. It's pretty obvious how the story will end, but that doesn't make the journey any less awe-inspiring.
Down Among the Bushes of Jerusalem - This Irish Rovers song written by Tommy Sands doesn't stop with Jesus' birth. John Reynolds' wonderfully earthy, expressive vocals carry this lengthy ballad that describes Jesus as a rebel from his earliest days. The song is filled with Celtic instrumentation, including accordion and Irish drums. I almost think of it more as an Easter song, along the lines of Lord of the Dance, but it's on their Christmas album, and I suppose it fits in rather nicely with such songs as Mary Did You Know? "Born of honest parents and below a shining star, the word went 'round the country, and they came from near and far..."
Christmas Canon - This doesn't exactly focus on the Nativity, but it references the Christ Child and carries a note of profound hope in awaiting His return: "We are waiting. We have not forgotten." I first heard this song in its revamped version, entitled Christmas Canon Rock and featuring electric instruments and a powerhouse soloist. It wasn't until the perpetual Christmas music airplay began that I heard this original version. Both are by Trans-Siberian Orchestra, and I still can't decide which is my favorite, but I do love the classical sound of this one and the pristine vocals of the children who sing each of the three counter-melodies. They sound truly angelic. It doesn't hurt that the basis for the song is Pachelbel's Canon in D, which has long been a favorite of mine.
The Star Carol - Don't expect to hear this one on the radio either. I listen to this obscure recording, only available (as far as I know) as a part of the 3-CD boxed set Old Friends, and think, Why, oh why, couldn't have Simon and Garfunkel released a Christmas album? I know, I know... Too commercial, and I don't suppose Paul was too interested in singing an album almost entirely comprised of other people's material, or of composing a dozen original Christmas songs, especially when he is Jewish. Art did later record a Christmas album, albeit a most unusual one. At any rate, this is one of the few Christmas songs Simon and Garfunkel recorded and the only one that is not what I would call a traditional carol. I've never heard it elsewhere, though I understand that Aaron Neville also recorded it. The song sounds older than it is; though it was written in the fifties, its third and final verse is peppered with thees and thous. It's a very simple song reminiscent of Away in a Manger, but the harmonies are exquisite, and there's a sincerity to it that's lacking in the rushed rendition of Go Tell It on the Mountain from Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M.. It's my favorite of their Christmas offerings because it's so different and so lovely, without any subtly dark undertones. It's quite a shame that it isn't more readily available.
Just for Fun
I'm such a sucker for Christmas specials, and a lot of awfully fun songs have been drawn from those. Others are delightful bits of silliness independent of any overarching story.
The Chipmunk Song - You know I had to stick these guys in here. What would Christmas be without squeaky Alvin pleading for a hula hoop and ignoring the musical direction of an ever more irritated Dave Seville? This song does a great job of capturing the impatience many children feel at Christmas, and it does so with trademark bickering humor and high-pitched harmonizing. Another amusing ditty along these lines is VeggieTales' hyper I Can't Believe It's Christmas, sung by Junior Asparagus, Laura Carrot and various other Veggie tots.
Oh Santa is my favorite Veggie offering, though. Larry, always the ambassador of childlike naivety, anxiously awaits the arrival of Santa (who, viewers will note, is Bob the Tomato in a rather transparent disguise). Before the big guy shows up, Larry is visited by several unsavory guests: a bank robber, a Viking and an IRS agent. While the lengthy song is certainly silly, it also has a good message, since Larry is willing to share his specially made Christmas cookies with those who have come to do him ill, and in turn, his assailants drop their attack. Another one you won't hear on the radio, but I love it!
Mr. Heatmiser - This ragtime song from Rankin and Bass's The Year Without a Santa Claus is arguably the most memorable tune to come from their many Christmas specials. Two climatically opposite brothers square off against each other, each assured in his position that his end of the thermometer is superior. I always get a kick out of hearing the version by the Big Bad Voodoo Daddies on the radio, though I prefer the original; I find it especially annoying that the wording of one line is changed without changing the line that rhymes with it: "I’m Mr. White Christmas. I’m Mr. Cool. I’m Mr. Icicle. I’m Mr. 10 Below." If you must change it from "Snow" to "Cool," can't you change the fourth sentence to something like "I'm Mr. Cancelled School" or "I'm Mr. 'Blizzards Rule!'"? That lack of a rhyme is just jarring. Otherwise, though, this piano-drenched face-off is loads of fun.
You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch - I like this one even better, though it sounds more appropriate for Halloween than Christmas. Thurl Ravenscroft's distinctively deep voice and those deliciously ostentatious instrumentals do justice to Seuss's seriously skewered lyrics. Each line is expertly articulated, but I think my favorite moment has to be when he snarls, "You're a rotter, Mr. Grinch!" Out of context, this couldn't be less Christmassy, but it's quite a testament to the power of Christmas to think that it could transform a creature whose "soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable, mangled up in tangled up knots," into a compassionate spirit.
I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas - I only discovered this one a couple years ago, and I wonder how it could have escaped my notice for so many years. It was on an album by the Countdown Kids, who did several cheesy Christmas records that I wore out when I was little. We must have about every album except that one. When I first heard the song, I didn't believe it was actually sung by a little girl. I was convinced it was an adult trying to sound girlish, and not succeeding very well. But Gayla Peevey was only ten when she recorded the song as a fundraiser to bring a hippo to the Oklahoma City zoo. Her brassy voice reminds me of Ethel Merman. John Rox's goofy lyrics (I'm especially amused by his reference to a "hippo hero") and the brass band backup complement her over-the-top delivery, and they did the trick; the zoo got its hippo. I, however, am still waiting for mine. I guess I'll just have to sing louder!
Home for the Holidays
These last few are songs whose primary focus is domestic, with the emphasis on loved ones and how they interact with this holiday.
Aspenglow - I couldn't conclude this list without mentioning John Denver at some point. He has no shortage of qualifying songs, but I choose this one for its gentle, evocative beauty and its association with Colorado. Christmas for Cowboys is lovely as well, albeit less easily applicable. Though it's a tribute to one particular beloved town, most of the things Denver sings about in the guitar-heavy Aspenglow are the sorts of things that make a Christmas celebration merry no matter where you are. "Aspen is the life to live. See how much there is to give. See how strongly you believe. See how much you may receive."
You Make It Feel Like Christmas - One of my favorite Christmas albums is Neil Diamond's, and I've always been a fan of this original song, which is cozily upbeat. Aside from the title line, there are only a few specific references to Christmas; most of it is more of a general love song, a grateful tribute to a wife whose love endures and always manages to catch him off guard: "When people ask how we stay together, I say you never let me down." Given the fact that Diamond is Jewish, I take this song to be semi-autobiographical at best, perhaps reflecting his feelings but not the holiday trappings; then again, if he recorded an entire Christmas album, maybe he does have a tree in his living room in December after all...
It Doesn't Have to Be That Way - This Jim Croce song is a fairly recent discovery for me. I was startled to hear it on the radio a couple of years back; given his short career, it isn't often that I come across a "new" song by him, and I certainly would have thought I would have been aware of a Christmas song. This somber guitar-driven tune is very much along the same lines as Photographs and Memories, and it offers a window into the heart of those for whom Christmas may bring more pain than cheer, while leaving an opening for the possibility of a reconciliation between the man and his estranged love. "The windy winter avenues just don't seem the same, and the Christmas carols sound like blues, but the choir is not to blame."
Old City Bar - Trans-Siberian Orchestra is known for high-octane instrumental music and exhilirating light shows. But of all their songs, my favorite is this acoustic ballad in which the focus is entirely upon the lyrics, which are delivered in a warm but ragged style reminiscent of an aged storyteller regaling his grandchildren with a tale by firelight. Humble in presentation, epic in length, it is the one track upon which the narrative of Christmas Eve and Other Stories hinges. A crusty bartender, a homesick girl and an angel in disguise interact in this powerful recollection of a Christmas miracle. "If you want to arrange it / This world you can change it / If we could somehow make this / Christmas thing last / By helping a neighbor / Or even a stranger / And to know who needs help / You need only just ask."
Same Old Lang Syne - I'm ending with this because it's so unique among all the Christmas songs that get regular play on the radio, and with Dan Fogelberg's death last year, it has an even more melancholy flavor to it now. Piano and strings are the driving instruments in this reflective song, which tells the true story of a Christmas Eve encounter Fogelberg had with a former, now-married girlfriend. His vocals are achingly tender, with the sting of loss in the back of his throat before he can enjoy a moment of his reunion unencumbered. The layering of his vocals amplifies his loneliness, and his falsetto heights on the choruses are an eerie illustration of his plaintive state of mind. What's remarkable about this song is how accidentally it came about, right down to the timing. If this had happened in July, it wouldn't have gotten half the airplay it does, but because of the date, it gets to be in the Christmas rotation. It also gets an absolutely devastating last line, accompanied by instrumentation expertly approximating precipitation. "As I turned to make my way back home, the snow turned into rain." Brilliant.
So that's my list of favorites, though it's far from definitive. For instance, I didn't even touch Michael Card, who probably has a couple dozen or so original Christmas songs. I don't feel like trying to figure out which is my favorite, so suffice it to say that any of his are worth checking out, though none is likely to grace the radio airwaves, except perhaps on a Christian station. I'm sure as soon as I post this I'll think of a couple more absolutely essential Christmas songs, but this will have to do for now. If I'm up to it, traditional songs will be up next.
Meanwhile, I invite other writers to join me in celebrating your favorite Christmas songs, as few or as many as you'd like. If you'd care to join my Sing We Now of Christmas Write-off, drop me a comment or e-mail and I'll link you up! I'll keep this going through the end of December. Happy singing!
Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men
What better time than Christmas to try to embrace our better natures and build a bridge to a brighter tomorrow?
Do They Know It's Christmas? - This hit single released in the early 80s by a group of pop stars going by the name Band Aid is every bit as timely today as it was then. It's an important reminder of how many people there are living in hunger and poverty in the world. The focus is on Africa, though the sentiment could be expanded to encompass other continents as well. The point is to look at "the world outside your window" and do something constructive about its problems. The song is a little simplistic, and watching the video with its line-up of 80s idols with bad hair is rather amusing, but songwriter Bob Geldof's efforts to raise global consciousness are admirable, and it also happens to be one of the catchiest songs on the radio this time of year. The pounding percussion! The resonant tolling of bells! The searing accusation by Bono! Boy George's eerily feminine pipes joyfully encouraging us, "Throw your arms around the world at Christmastime!" Why, thank you... I think I will!
Happy Xmas (War Is Over) - While we're on the subject of saving the world, I must let John Lennon have his say. I first heard this song on Neil Diamond's Christmas album; when I finally heard the original, I was surprised at how similar the arrangements were. I've since heard another version that is also nearly identical. It's a very simple song, but the counter-melody is such a perfect complement to the main vocals that any embellishments would detract from its power. Like much of Lennon's work, it advocates peace, and the choir of children is representative of a hope that future generations will better learn how to live with one another. It too is sadly as appropriate today as when it was written, with its pleading mantra of "War is over if you want it." While there's no acknowledgment of the divine in this song, at least there's not the sense that Lennon was bashing religion (which I must admit he did a bit in Imagine), and I can't see anything anti-Christian about his desire for brotherhood. This is my favorite song from Lennon's solo career.
Someday at Christmas - I couldn't tell you when it was that I first heard this song, but last year was when I really took notice of it. When I finally looked it up, I felt like a dolt because I'd thought the song was sung by a woman, when in fact those were the dulcet tones of Stevie Wonder I'd been hearing. He has several songs in the regular holiday rotation, and I like them all, but this is my favorite by far. Its basic message is very similar to Happy XMas, expressing optimism that people can refrain from violence. The melody is beautiful, and while the provocative first line - "Someday at Christmas, men won't be boys playing with bombs like kids play with toys" - is quiet and backed with instrumentation vaguely reminiscent of a music box, it builds in intensity, with choral backing and lots of soulful vocals, particularly on the wistful line, "Maybe not in time for you and me, but someday at Christmastime."
Light One Candle - I never hear this one on the radio, and more's the pity. This is one of two outstanding songs penned by Peter Yarrow that appear on our well-worn Peter Paul and Mary Christmas album. The Magi (The Heart of Man's a Palace) is just as fantastic, but Light One Candle sticks in my head more, probably because it's generally accompanied by a crowd of glowing lights from the audience. Additionally, they don't restrict its use to Christmas concerts. This is actually a Hanukkah song, with specific references to the Maccabees and the central metaphor of ever-burning candles, but it's an anthem that's also intended to reach further than that. It's a universal call to keep (or find) the faith; by the time they get everyone in attendance singing along in jubilation, the burden and promise of justice prevailing feels tangible.
Something About Christmas Time - Easily confused with Jon Bon Jovi's I Wish Every Day Could Be Like Christmas, which is nearly as good, Bryan Adams' song, like most in this category, intensifies as it goes on. He's joined by an inspiring chorus, and there's just enough of a rock edge to this song to make me want to do a fist pump in time to the Christmas bells that chime in partway through. Another song that urges everyone to let Christmas seep into their hearts. "I know it's not too late. The world would be a better place if we can keep the spirit more than one day in the year. Send a message loud and clear."
Snoopy's Christmas - This should probably go with the novelty songs, but while some might find a sound effects-laden song about Flying Ace Snoopy to be a little hard to take seriously, I can't help but find it heartwarming. It's a very peppy song, augmented by a military drum roll, an austere recitation of O Tannenbaum and some very cheery-sounding bells. In part, I take the song as a tribute to the 1914 Christmas truce between German and British troops; in any event, it's a joyful narrative about the wonder of Christmas yielding compassion from unexpected sources. The implication? If these foes can bury the hatchet for the day, why not everyone else? Plus, it's awfully fun to hear those Royal Guardsmen growl, "the Bloody Red Baron!"
Christmas 1915 - Speaking of the Christmas truce, I discovered this gem after compiling this list. Written by Cormac McConnell, it was recently recorded by the group Celtic Thunder, whose members harmonize gorgeously in this haunting account of a fleeting peace and the carnage that followed. Exhilarating. Heartbreaking. And my favorite new Christmas song of 2008. "Silent night. No cannons roar. / A king is born of peace forevermore. / All's calm, all's bright, / All brothers hand in hand / In 19 and 15 in No Man's Land."
A New York Christmas - This is a 2010 discovery thanks to the mall radio. This inspring anthem has a rock edge to it and a melody that grabbed me from the first time I heard it and just wouldn't let me go. It captures both the grit and glory of New York City in this time of year, and its plea for an open-hearted response to the disenfranchised of society is just the sort of rallying cry that's needed in a too-often apathetic age. "Call on your angels, come down from the city. / Crowd around the big tree, all you strangers who know me. / Bring your compassion, your understanding. / Lord, how we need it on this New York City Christmas."
In the City of David...
While many contemporary Christmas songs focus on the general joy of the season and often sidestep the Nativity altogether, several are specific to the first Christmas. These are some of my favorites.
Mary's Boy Child - This one is borderline traditional. My aunt once performed it in a choir concert, and we sang it during a Sunday School Christmas program several years back (when I was incensed at the insistence upon replacing "man" in the chorus with the gender-neutral, dorky-sounding "folks"). Still, I can't quite lump it together with sing-along favorites like Joy to the World, Angels We Have Heard on High and The First Noel, in part because I consider there to be only one definitive version of this song, and that's Boney M's. A typical group of carolers just can't replicate the energy and exuberance of their rendition, which never fails to leave me grinning from ear to ear. It helps that there's so much going on in the song, particularly towards the end, when the spiritual Oh My Lord is expertly incorporated. The harmonies are wonderful, the energy infectious, the steel drums and Caribbean accents irresistible. Simply one of the happiest Christmas songs I can think of. "Hark now hear the angels sing, a king is born today, and man will live forevermore because of Christmas day!"
The Gift - When I first heard this song on the radio last year, it stopped me dead in my tracks. I immediately turned up the volume and stood riveted to this gentle story of an impoverished young girl who nurses an injured bird back to health just in time for the grand presentation of gifts at the local church. While the version I've heard is a cover, it's so exquisite I have no great desire to listen to the original. The singer is Aselin Debison, a young girl herself, and the purity of her voice perfectly matches the innocence of the young protagonist. One thing I love about this song is the fact that it's narrative; not only that, it has no chorus, instead wandering along gradually through the verses in a refreshingly unhurried manner. Its first eight lines are a cappella, which accentuates the beauty of Debison's voice and renders the guitars that serve as the first accompaniment all the more beautiful. Even more lovely is the flute toward the end, which is meant to imitate birdsong. Basically, this is yet another variation on The Little Drummer Boy, which has essentially spawned a sub-genre among Christmas tales; it's particularly similar to the picture book The Most Precious Gift. It's pretty obvious how the story will end, but that doesn't make the journey any less awe-inspiring.
Down Among the Bushes of Jerusalem - This Irish Rovers song written by Tommy Sands doesn't stop with Jesus' birth. John Reynolds' wonderfully earthy, expressive vocals carry this lengthy ballad that describes Jesus as a rebel from his earliest days. The song is filled with Celtic instrumentation, including accordion and Irish drums. I almost think of it more as an Easter song, along the lines of Lord of the Dance, but it's on their Christmas album, and I suppose it fits in rather nicely with such songs as Mary Did You Know? "Born of honest parents and below a shining star, the word went 'round the country, and they came from near and far..."
Christmas Canon - This doesn't exactly focus on the Nativity, but it references the Christ Child and carries a note of profound hope in awaiting His return: "We are waiting. We have not forgotten." I first heard this song in its revamped version, entitled Christmas Canon Rock and featuring electric instruments and a powerhouse soloist. It wasn't until the perpetual Christmas music airplay began that I heard this original version. Both are by Trans-Siberian Orchestra, and I still can't decide which is my favorite, but I do love the classical sound of this one and the pristine vocals of the children who sing each of the three counter-melodies. They sound truly angelic. It doesn't hurt that the basis for the song is Pachelbel's Canon in D, which has long been a favorite of mine.
The Star Carol - Don't expect to hear this one on the radio either. I listen to this obscure recording, only available (as far as I know) as a part of the 3-CD boxed set Old Friends, and think, Why, oh why, couldn't have Simon and Garfunkel released a Christmas album? I know, I know... Too commercial, and I don't suppose Paul was too interested in singing an album almost entirely comprised of other people's material, or of composing a dozen original Christmas songs, especially when he is Jewish. Art did later record a Christmas album, albeit a most unusual one. At any rate, this is one of the few Christmas songs Simon and Garfunkel recorded and the only one that is not what I would call a traditional carol. I've never heard it elsewhere, though I understand that Aaron Neville also recorded it. The song sounds older than it is; though it was written in the fifties, its third and final verse is peppered with thees and thous. It's a very simple song reminiscent of Away in a Manger, but the harmonies are exquisite, and there's a sincerity to it that's lacking in the rushed rendition of Go Tell It on the Mountain from Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M.. It's my favorite of their Christmas offerings because it's so different and so lovely, without any subtly dark undertones. It's quite a shame that it isn't more readily available.
Just for Fun
I'm such a sucker for Christmas specials, and a lot of awfully fun songs have been drawn from those. Others are delightful bits of silliness independent of any overarching story.
The Chipmunk Song - You know I had to stick these guys in here. What would Christmas be without squeaky Alvin pleading for a hula hoop and ignoring the musical direction of an ever more irritated Dave Seville? This song does a great job of capturing the impatience many children feel at Christmas, and it does so with trademark bickering humor and high-pitched harmonizing. Another amusing ditty along these lines is VeggieTales' hyper I Can't Believe It's Christmas, sung by Junior Asparagus, Laura Carrot and various other Veggie tots.
Oh Santa is my favorite Veggie offering, though. Larry, always the ambassador of childlike naivety, anxiously awaits the arrival of Santa (who, viewers will note, is Bob the Tomato in a rather transparent disguise). Before the big guy shows up, Larry is visited by several unsavory guests: a bank robber, a Viking and an IRS agent. While the lengthy song is certainly silly, it also has a good message, since Larry is willing to share his specially made Christmas cookies with those who have come to do him ill, and in turn, his assailants drop their attack. Another one you won't hear on the radio, but I love it!
Mr. Heatmiser - This ragtime song from Rankin and Bass's The Year Without a Santa Claus is arguably the most memorable tune to come from their many Christmas specials. Two climatically opposite brothers square off against each other, each assured in his position that his end of the thermometer is superior. I always get a kick out of hearing the version by the Big Bad Voodoo Daddies on the radio, though I prefer the original; I find it especially annoying that the wording of one line is changed without changing the line that rhymes with it: "I’m Mr. White Christmas. I’m Mr. Cool. I’m Mr. Icicle. I’m Mr. 10 Below." If you must change it from "Snow" to "Cool," can't you change the fourth sentence to something like "I'm Mr. Cancelled School" or "I'm Mr. 'Blizzards Rule!'"? That lack of a rhyme is just jarring. Otherwise, though, this piano-drenched face-off is loads of fun.
You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch - I like this one even better, though it sounds more appropriate for Halloween than Christmas. Thurl Ravenscroft's distinctively deep voice and those deliciously ostentatious instrumentals do justice to Seuss's seriously skewered lyrics. Each line is expertly articulated, but I think my favorite moment has to be when he snarls, "You're a rotter, Mr. Grinch!" Out of context, this couldn't be less Christmassy, but it's quite a testament to the power of Christmas to think that it could transform a creature whose "soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable, mangled up in tangled up knots," into a compassionate spirit.
I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas - I only discovered this one a couple years ago, and I wonder how it could have escaped my notice for so many years. It was on an album by the Countdown Kids, who did several cheesy Christmas records that I wore out when I was little. We must have about every album except that one. When I first heard the song, I didn't believe it was actually sung by a little girl. I was convinced it was an adult trying to sound girlish, and not succeeding very well. But Gayla Peevey was only ten when she recorded the song as a fundraiser to bring a hippo to the Oklahoma City zoo. Her brassy voice reminds me of Ethel Merman. John Rox's goofy lyrics (I'm especially amused by his reference to a "hippo hero") and the brass band backup complement her over-the-top delivery, and they did the trick; the zoo got its hippo. I, however, am still waiting for mine. I guess I'll just have to sing louder!
Home for the Holidays
These last few are songs whose primary focus is domestic, with the emphasis on loved ones and how they interact with this holiday.
Aspenglow - I couldn't conclude this list without mentioning John Denver at some point. He has no shortage of qualifying songs, but I choose this one for its gentle, evocative beauty and its association with Colorado. Christmas for Cowboys is lovely as well, albeit less easily applicable. Though it's a tribute to one particular beloved town, most of the things Denver sings about in the guitar-heavy Aspenglow are the sorts of things that make a Christmas celebration merry no matter where you are. "Aspen is the life to live. See how much there is to give. See how strongly you believe. See how much you may receive."
You Make It Feel Like Christmas - One of my favorite Christmas albums is Neil Diamond's, and I've always been a fan of this original song, which is cozily upbeat. Aside from the title line, there are only a few specific references to Christmas; most of it is more of a general love song, a grateful tribute to a wife whose love endures and always manages to catch him off guard: "When people ask how we stay together, I say you never let me down." Given the fact that Diamond is Jewish, I take this song to be semi-autobiographical at best, perhaps reflecting his feelings but not the holiday trappings; then again, if he recorded an entire Christmas album, maybe he does have a tree in his living room in December after all...
It Doesn't Have to Be That Way - This Jim Croce song is a fairly recent discovery for me. I was startled to hear it on the radio a couple of years back; given his short career, it isn't often that I come across a "new" song by him, and I certainly would have thought I would have been aware of a Christmas song. This somber guitar-driven tune is very much along the same lines as Photographs and Memories, and it offers a window into the heart of those for whom Christmas may bring more pain than cheer, while leaving an opening for the possibility of a reconciliation between the man and his estranged love. "The windy winter avenues just don't seem the same, and the Christmas carols sound like blues, but the choir is not to blame."
Old City Bar - Trans-Siberian Orchestra is known for high-octane instrumental music and exhilirating light shows. But of all their songs, my favorite is this acoustic ballad in which the focus is entirely upon the lyrics, which are delivered in a warm but ragged style reminiscent of an aged storyteller regaling his grandchildren with a tale by firelight. Humble in presentation, epic in length, it is the one track upon which the narrative of Christmas Eve and Other Stories hinges. A crusty bartender, a homesick girl and an angel in disguise interact in this powerful recollection of a Christmas miracle. "If you want to arrange it / This world you can change it / If we could somehow make this / Christmas thing last / By helping a neighbor / Or even a stranger / And to know who needs help / You need only just ask."
Same Old Lang Syne - I'm ending with this because it's so unique among all the Christmas songs that get regular play on the radio, and with Dan Fogelberg's death last year, it has an even more melancholy flavor to it now. Piano and strings are the driving instruments in this reflective song, which tells the true story of a Christmas Eve encounter Fogelberg had with a former, now-married girlfriend. His vocals are achingly tender, with the sting of loss in the back of his throat before he can enjoy a moment of his reunion unencumbered. The layering of his vocals amplifies his loneliness, and his falsetto heights on the choruses are an eerie illustration of his plaintive state of mind. What's remarkable about this song is how accidentally it came about, right down to the timing. If this had happened in July, it wouldn't have gotten half the airplay it does, but because of the date, it gets to be in the Christmas rotation. It also gets an absolutely devastating last line, accompanied by instrumentation expertly approximating precipitation. "As I turned to make my way back home, the snow turned into rain." Brilliant.
So that's my list of favorites, though it's far from definitive. For instance, I didn't even touch Michael Card, who probably has a couple dozen or so original Christmas songs. I don't feel like trying to figure out which is my favorite, so suffice it to say that any of his are worth checking out, though none is likely to grace the radio airwaves, except perhaps on a Christian station. I'm sure as soon as I post this I'll think of a couple more absolutely essential Christmas songs, but this will have to do for now. If I'm up to it, traditional songs will be up next.
Meanwhile, I invite other writers to join me in celebrating your favorite Christmas songs, as few or as many as you'd like. If you'd care to join my Sing We Now of Christmas Write-off, drop me a comment or e-mail and I'll link you up! I'll keep this going through the end of December. Happy singing!
Wednesday, December 6, 2006
The Promise - Michael Card
Michael Card delivers an album full of reverent reflections on the birth of Christ with The Promise. My favorite tracks explore the emotions of those directly involved: Mary (What Her Heart Remembered), Joseph (Joseph's Song), the shepherds (Shepherds' Watch) and the Magi (We Will Find Him).
Friday, July 29, 2005
Pray for the Greening of Belfast
I am writing this review at 5 in the morning. I was determined to get a
full night’s sleep tonight in order to see Clay Aiken on Good Morning America.
But I fell asleep watching Letterman, which meant that the tendrils of
the best news I have heard in I-can’t-remember-when reached me a couple
hours later from a broadcast of CBS News Up to the Minute. Maybe
it was announced earlier and I missed it, but I felt as though I was
hearing incredibly significant news just as it was happening, and once I
heard it, I was far too excited to sleep. Maybe I’m naive, and this
isn’t the avalanche of blessings that it appears to be. But my name is
Ireland. My ancestors are from Ireland, and I’ve felt Ireland in my soul
for as long as I can remember, as deeply as any of my strongest
convictions. And when I hear that the IRA is laying down its arms and
vowing to pursue peaceful methods by which to make its message known...
Well, that’s about as felicitous occurrence as I can imagine.
As I heard the news, one song was running through my head. A gorgeous song by one of my favorite singer-songwriters, Michael Card. I searched for an hour in search of Starkindler, an album which I thought included not only this particular ode to Ireland but a dozen or so Celtic songs, a mix of traditional tunes and those composed by Card himself. I purchased the tape after seeing him in concert during a tour of the same name in which the instrumentals included an enormous harp in prominence. Unfortunately, it has gone missing, so instead of an entire album dedicated to the land I so love, I’ll settle for the CD on which this song appeared. Upon further investigation, I realized the song was not on Starkindler after all but was only sung during that concert. So I found the appropriate album anyway. PoiÄ“́ma is a fairly unusual entry in Card’s extensive discography, as it deals largely with contemporary issues ranging from suicide to failing marriage to the aforementioned strife in Ireland. I get the sense that this is an album filled with very personal songs, whereas most of Card’s other compositions, lyrical and intuitive as they are, derive directly from the Bible. An added bonus is the paragraph or two of introduction that precedes most of the lyrics in the liner notes, providing insight into the inspiration behind these songs.
Poem of Your Life - This opener is closely akin to the title of the album, which Card explains is a Greek word meaning “God’s masterpieces.” It’s a call to action, encouraging each listener to show gratitude for the gift of life by making something worthwhile out of it. Drink in all that life has to offer with your senses alert, and use your own special talents to make a positive impact on the world. This is a pretty upbeat number with a Celtic feel to it. The fiddle and pipes enrich the instrumentation and an a capella chorus towards the end adds depth, but the most notable element is the percussion, which provides the vibrant pulse which one could easily see a troupe of Irish step-dancers illustrating.
...Pray to prolong / Your time in the ball of the dance of your days / Your canvas of colors, of moments ablaze / With all that is holy / With the joy and the strife / With the rhythm and rhyme of the poem of your life.
The Basin and the Towel - A quiet, piano-driven number extolling humility. The song begins with a recounting of Jesus’ foot-washing exercise with his apostles. I once attended a three-week Seminary Sampler in which we literally followed this Biblical example. While such a reenactment is a spiritually satisfying experience, what Card is really encouraging in this song is a daily willingness to be a servant. He preaches the message with characteristic gentleness.
The space between ourselves sometimes / Is more than the distance between the stars / By the fragile bridge of the servant’s bow / We take up the basin and the towel.
Things We Leave Behind This guitar-heavy tune leans heavily on the Gospels for examples to underscore Card’s point. While the last song urged humility, this similarly preaches poverty, or more accurately a willingness to free oneself from one’s possessions when they stand in the way of being a fully committed Christian. Card paints this sacrifice in a positive light, insisting that the liberty we gain is far better than the things we may have to give up. Incidentally, it includes one of my favorite of the many instances of alliteration in his lyrics: Matthew was mindful of taking the tax / And pressing the people to pay.
When we say no to the things of the world / We open our hearts to the love of the Lord / And it’s hard to imagine the freedom we find / From the things we leave behind.
Earthly Perfect Harmony - This poignant composition, carried along by Card’s sensitive finger-picking on the acoustic guitar and a chorus of pleasantly understated violins, is an homage to marriage that admits rocky times are sometimes inevitable. The narratorial voice here is pained and uncertain but leaves us with the sense that the love he once felt for his wife is powerful enough to persevere for, even if he can’t feel it at the moment.
If we choose / Not to lose the light / That made us shine in each other’s eyes / If we decide that life alone’s no life at all / Then we must see / That love can be / The earthly perfect harmony / The Lord composed for children of his own to sing.
Home - Seems like most musicians have one: an ode to their home, whatever that might mean. Paul Simon had Homeward Bound, the Beatles A Hard Day’s Night, John Denver Back Home Again. Card unsurprisingly puts a theological spin on his. Perhaps influenced by C. S. Lewis, who he cites in the dedication section, he views his own home in a Platonian light, as a shadow of the more perfect abode awaiting him. One of the most homey and intimate of the tracks on this album.
Being at home should remind you that still / There’s a place that’s prepared just for you / And I think my home is just Heaven’s reflection / As long as my home’s here with you.
Lowden’s Prayer - This instrumental track is the shortest except for the reprise of the opening song. Another very Celtic flavored song, it includes the fiddle, Uillean pipes, dulcimer and again that beautifully expressive percussion that so enhanced Poem of Your Life. The introductory paragraph is particularly useful here, as it explains the piece was inspired by luthier George Lowden, who he first met in Belfast. Lowden presented him with a guitar he had made himself and prayed over during each day of its creation; I assume that is the instrument on which Card provides his accompaniment here. This segues directly into the next track, which is the aforementioned reprise, which I suppose just serves as a reminder of the main thrust of the album now that we’ve reached the halfway point.
The Edge - This is a pretty dark song, though it ends on a note of hope. His introduction is especially lyrical, explaining how God “sometimes sings to us in minor keys.” There’s almost a bit of a hard rock feel to the instrumentation, though Card’s vocals themselves are fairly quiet until they reach a plaintive cry at the chorus. Those pipes again make an impressive appearance; it’s clear Card already had a fascination with Celtic styles while he was working on this album. Card does not shy away from acknowledging that many people face the temptation to give up on life, but true to the theme of the album, he encourages them to embrace it instead, struggling through the darkness with the light of God to guide them.
I promise I will always leave / The darkness for the light / I swear by all that’s holy / I will not give up the fight / I’ll drink down death like water / Before I ever come again / To that dark place / Where I might make / The choice for life to end.
Hope - An upbeat number backed by some groovy guitar and percussion set to sound like people clapping. The chorus seems like one that would be ideal for a Sunday school sing-along. It’s an appropriate song to follow The Edge, as it emphasizes the idea of hope. It also returns quite neatly to the metaphor of the title.
Though your like may seem to sound a dark and minor key / It will someday shift itself to major / And the lyric of your life will rhyme / With nothing less than joy / And you’ll find that hope is from / The One that you believe.
Bearers of the Light - The keyboards on this song give the song a deep, resonant feel at times, while the guitar accentuates Card’s gentle assurances. The tracks on this album so naturally follow one another that I don’t think it would be much of a stretch to call it a concept album. He doesn’t clearly label it as such, but Card has done an album of that sort before, and this fits that mold quite well. This song again references Biblical figures, applying them to our times.
He will walk beside us / A strong friend, Barnabas / He will be that sure shoulder to lean on / The promise we share is our burden to bear / And our light tells the darkness to be gone.
The Greening of Belfast - Yes, the track I was waiting for. From the advent of those haunting pipes, this song draws me into its magic and never lets me go. The opening line: In a green, green land riding on the sea / Live a people who speak like a song. What a perfect description of Ireland! I dream of the rolling hills that gleam emerald; my heart soars each time I hear anyone speak with an Irish accent, and I’m riveted to their speech no matter what their words. The fiddle sows a stream of sorrow throughout the song, but the harp seems to carry Card’s prayer up to Heaven, where angels do their best to protect the residents of this “heartbreaking, heartbroken town.” The members of that angelic host must be smiling today.
Pray for the greening of Belfast / That what is now barren may bloom and be fair / God love the city of Belfast / For so many children who love Him live there.
For F. F. B. This song is very unusual in that it begins and ends with a recording of a snippet of a sermon preached by Card’s grandfather. This is a loving tribute to that man, F. F. Brown, a gentle expression of gratitude from the man who has carried on in his tradition, though in a slightly different manner. This is an incredibly personal composition, and it reminds me powerfully of Leader of the Band, my favorite song by Dan Fogelberg, whose voice is remarkably similar to Michael Card’s. Both songs are achingly tender, with soft vocals, understated instrumentals focusing mainly on the composer’s own guitar playing, and a core message that the songwriter is eternally to have become “a living legacy” to men they so adored.
From you I learned the kind of faith / That looks up to the mountains / In you I saw just what I’d like to be / Oh, Grandad, I wish you could be here / To tell me what to do / ‘Cause I first saw the light of Christ in you.
Sunrise of Your Smile - Card has written so many lullabies, he needs several albums to contain all of them. This one is dedicated to his son Will, no longer a toddler at this point but still young enough to enjoy frequent moments of innocent exuberance. Just as tender as the ode to his grandfather, this one goes to the other end of the spectrum, expressing the simple joy he feels in sharing his son’s happiness. And I can’t help but get a kick out of the fact that he references Peter Pan.
I would wander weary miles / Would welcome ridicule, my child / To simply see the sunrise of your smile / To see the light behind your eyes / The happy thought that makes you fly...
Well, there you have it, and I certainly can’t complain about listening to this album instead of the intended Starkindler. It’s a most uplifting tribute to life in general, a perfect way to celebrate a move that celebrates life most thrillingly. May the greening last forever.
As I heard the news, one song was running through my head. A gorgeous song by one of my favorite singer-songwriters, Michael Card. I searched for an hour in search of Starkindler, an album which I thought included not only this particular ode to Ireland but a dozen or so Celtic songs, a mix of traditional tunes and those composed by Card himself. I purchased the tape after seeing him in concert during a tour of the same name in which the instrumentals included an enormous harp in prominence. Unfortunately, it has gone missing, so instead of an entire album dedicated to the land I so love, I’ll settle for the CD on which this song appeared. Upon further investigation, I realized the song was not on Starkindler after all but was only sung during that concert. So I found the appropriate album anyway. PoiÄ“́ma is a fairly unusual entry in Card’s extensive discography, as it deals largely with contemporary issues ranging from suicide to failing marriage to the aforementioned strife in Ireland. I get the sense that this is an album filled with very personal songs, whereas most of Card’s other compositions, lyrical and intuitive as they are, derive directly from the Bible. An added bonus is the paragraph or two of introduction that precedes most of the lyrics in the liner notes, providing insight into the inspiration behind these songs.
Poem of Your Life - This opener is closely akin to the title of the album, which Card explains is a Greek word meaning “God’s masterpieces.” It’s a call to action, encouraging each listener to show gratitude for the gift of life by making something worthwhile out of it. Drink in all that life has to offer with your senses alert, and use your own special talents to make a positive impact on the world. This is a pretty upbeat number with a Celtic feel to it. The fiddle and pipes enrich the instrumentation and an a capella chorus towards the end adds depth, but the most notable element is the percussion, which provides the vibrant pulse which one could easily see a troupe of Irish step-dancers illustrating.
...Pray to prolong / Your time in the ball of the dance of your days / Your canvas of colors, of moments ablaze / With all that is holy / With the joy and the strife / With the rhythm and rhyme of the poem of your life.
The Basin and the Towel - A quiet, piano-driven number extolling humility. The song begins with a recounting of Jesus’ foot-washing exercise with his apostles. I once attended a three-week Seminary Sampler in which we literally followed this Biblical example. While such a reenactment is a spiritually satisfying experience, what Card is really encouraging in this song is a daily willingness to be a servant. He preaches the message with characteristic gentleness.
The space between ourselves sometimes / Is more than the distance between the stars / By the fragile bridge of the servant’s bow / We take up the basin and the towel.
Things We Leave Behind This guitar-heavy tune leans heavily on the Gospels for examples to underscore Card’s point. While the last song urged humility, this similarly preaches poverty, or more accurately a willingness to free oneself from one’s possessions when they stand in the way of being a fully committed Christian. Card paints this sacrifice in a positive light, insisting that the liberty we gain is far better than the things we may have to give up. Incidentally, it includes one of my favorite of the many instances of alliteration in his lyrics: Matthew was mindful of taking the tax / And pressing the people to pay.
When we say no to the things of the world / We open our hearts to the love of the Lord / And it’s hard to imagine the freedom we find / From the things we leave behind.
Earthly Perfect Harmony - This poignant composition, carried along by Card’s sensitive finger-picking on the acoustic guitar and a chorus of pleasantly understated violins, is an homage to marriage that admits rocky times are sometimes inevitable. The narratorial voice here is pained and uncertain but leaves us with the sense that the love he once felt for his wife is powerful enough to persevere for, even if he can’t feel it at the moment.
If we choose / Not to lose the light / That made us shine in each other’s eyes / If we decide that life alone’s no life at all / Then we must see / That love can be / The earthly perfect harmony / The Lord composed for children of his own to sing.
Home - Seems like most musicians have one: an ode to their home, whatever that might mean. Paul Simon had Homeward Bound, the Beatles A Hard Day’s Night, John Denver Back Home Again. Card unsurprisingly puts a theological spin on his. Perhaps influenced by C. S. Lewis, who he cites in the dedication section, he views his own home in a Platonian light, as a shadow of the more perfect abode awaiting him. One of the most homey and intimate of the tracks on this album.
Being at home should remind you that still / There’s a place that’s prepared just for you / And I think my home is just Heaven’s reflection / As long as my home’s here with you.
Lowden’s Prayer - This instrumental track is the shortest except for the reprise of the opening song. Another very Celtic flavored song, it includes the fiddle, Uillean pipes, dulcimer and again that beautifully expressive percussion that so enhanced Poem of Your Life. The introductory paragraph is particularly useful here, as it explains the piece was inspired by luthier George Lowden, who he first met in Belfast. Lowden presented him with a guitar he had made himself and prayed over during each day of its creation; I assume that is the instrument on which Card provides his accompaniment here. This segues directly into the next track, which is the aforementioned reprise, which I suppose just serves as a reminder of the main thrust of the album now that we’ve reached the halfway point.
The Edge - This is a pretty dark song, though it ends on a note of hope. His introduction is especially lyrical, explaining how God “sometimes sings to us in minor keys.” There’s almost a bit of a hard rock feel to the instrumentation, though Card’s vocals themselves are fairly quiet until they reach a plaintive cry at the chorus. Those pipes again make an impressive appearance; it’s clear Card already had a fascination with Celtic styles while he was working on this album. Card does not shy away from acknowledging that many people face the temptation to give up on life, but true to the theme of the album, he encourages them to embrace it instead, struggling through the darkness with the light of God to guide them.
I promise I will always leave / The darkness for the light / I swear by all that’s holy / I will not give up the fight / I’ll drink down death like water / Before I ever come again / To that dark place / Where I might make / The choice for life to end.
Hope - An upbeat number backed by some groovy guitar and percussion set to sound like people clapping. The chorus seems like one that would be ideal for a Sunday school sing-along. It’s an appropriate song to follow The Edge, as it emphasizes the idea of hope. It also returns quite neatly to the metaphor of the title.
Though your like may seem to sound a dark and minor key / It will someday shift itself to major / And the lyric of your life will rhyme / With nothing less than joy / And you’ll find that hope is from / The One that you believe.
Bearers of the Light - The keyboards on this song give the song a deep, resonant feel at times, while the guitar accentuates Card’s gentle assurances. The tracks on this album so naturally follow one another that I don’t think it would be much of a stretch to call it a concept album. He doesn’t clearly label it as such, but Card has done an album of that sort before, and this fits that mold quite well. This song again references Biblical figures, applying them to our times.
He will walk beside us / A strong friend, Barnabas / He will be that sure shoulder to lean on / The promise we share is our burden to bear / And our light tells the darkness to be gone.
The Greening of Belfast - Yes, the track I was waiting for. From the advent of those haunting pipes, this song draws me into its magic and never lets me go. The opening line: In a green, green land riding on the sea / Live a people who speak like a song. What a perfect description of Ireland! I dream of the rolling hills that gleam emerald; my heart soars each time I hear anyone speak with an Irish accent, and I’m riveted to their speech no matter what their words. The fiddle sows a stream of sorrow throughout the song, but the harp seems to carry Card’s prayer up to Heaven, where angels do their best to protect the residents of this “heartbreaking, heartbroken town.” The members of that angelic host must be smiling today.
Pray for the greening of Belfast / That what is now barren may bloom and be fair / God love the city of Belfast / For so many children who love Him live there.
For F. F. B. This song is very unusual in that it begins and ends with a recording of a snippet of a sermon preached by Card’s grandfather. This is a loving tribute to that man, F. F. Brown, a gentle expression of gratitude from the man who has carried on in his tradition, though in a slightly different manner. This is an incredibly personal composition, and it reminds me powerfully of Leader of the Band, my favorite song by Dan Fogelberg, whose voice is remarkably similar to Michael Card’s. Both songs are achingly tender, with soft vocals, understated instrumentals focusing mainly on the composer’s own guitar playing, and a core message that the songwriter is eternally to have become “a living legacy” to men they so adored.
From you I learned the kind of faith / That looks up to the mountains / In you I saw just what I’d like to be / Oh, Grandad, I wish you could be here / To tell me what to do / ‘Cause I first saw the light of Christ in you.
Sunrise of Your Smile - Card has written so many lullabies, he needs several albums to contain all of them. This one is dedicated to his son Will, no longer a toddler at this point but still young enough to enjoy frequent moments of innocent exuberance. Just as tender as the ode to his grandfather, this one goes to the other end of the spectrum, expressing the simple joy he feels in sharing his son’s happiness. And I can’t help but get a kick out of the fact that he references Peter Pan.
I would wander weary miles / Would welcome ridicule, my child / To simply see the sunrise of your smile / To see the light behind your eyes / The happy thought that makes you fly...
Well, there you have it, and I certainly can’t complain about listening to this album instead of the intended Starkindler. It’s a most uplifting tribute to life in general, a perfect way to celebrate a move that celebrates life most thrillingly. May the greening last forever.
Monday, April 25, 2005
It's Not Hard to Love Card With These Soothing Tunes
Whenever I write a review for Epinions, I know that at least four people
will read it: my mom, my dad, and my grandparents. I’m very grateful
for their support, but once in a while it means them reading a review of
something potentially unsavory. I’m afraid I may have rattled my
grandparents just a bit with my recounting of the raucous concert I
attended, and I mean to salve the shock by following it up with a
discussion the softest, most inoffensive album I can find. And hopefully
this review will inspire me to finally get around to all the other
Michael Card albums I’ve been meaning to write about for five years.
I sometimes feel a bit guilty that essentially my entire musical repertoire consists of “secular” music. I put the term in quotes because it has such a negative ring to it, and I don’t think it should. You don’t have to be singing to a specifically Christian audience in order to have lyrics consistent with Christianity. I find God present in the songs of John Denver, Simon and Garfunkel, Don McLean, James Taylor, Gordon Lightfoot and many, many others whose music would not be featured on a Christian radio station. But while I’m hopelessly devoted to VeggieTales, most of the music sold in Christian bookstores leaves me rather cold.
That is due in large part to a lack of lyrical sophistication. Praise choruses may be easy to sing, but they sure are boring. I was mildly offended when I first heard Baptized in Water, which places very mundane and repetitive lyrics to the tune of Morning Has Broken, one of my very favorite hymns. Personally, I think that’s a melody that ought to be left alone, so perfect is the marriage between words and notes, though I’ll at least give Praise and Thanksgiving credit for trying. Anyway, this is just the stuff we sing in church. What shows up on the radio often lacks rhyme, not to mention verses. And when the lyrics are complex, they’re usually lost in a sea of electric guitars and vocals shouted in order to appeal to a hip young crowd.
Michael Card is different. He fits right in with the finest in the genre of sensitive singer-songwriters, but his lyrics convey a message that is clearly Christian and often strongly rooted in Scripture. Sleep Sound in Jesus is one of a few albums that, instead of focusing mainly on certain stories and passages from the Bible, follows a particular theme with more modern implications. This album is a collection of gentle tunes intended to serenade an infant off into dreamland. Its soothing tone can’t help but induce placid snoozing in older listeners as well.
Sleep Sound In Jesus - This first song, accompanied by strings and electric piano, is reminiscent of the old bedtime prayer most Christian kids learned at a young age: “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep...” Only in this case it’s the parents doing the talking, telling the child to go to sleep and not to worry because God is taking care of him. Betsy Hernandez, who is a prominent presence throughout the album, takes the first verse, Card the second, and the third they sing together. Know for His sake you’ll be safe for the night. Sleep sound in Jesus. I’ll turn off the light.
He'll Wipe Away Your Tears - Hernandez takes this one by herself with the accompaniment of a piano and later a harp. There seems to be a slight Jewish air about this song, which is based on two verses in Revelation. It’s nice but more minor-toned than most of the tracks, and given its source it carries with it shadows of gearing up for a grim battle. Nonetheless, the focus is on God providing comfort. He’ll wipe away your tears and still your restless sighs, and lovingly He’ll listen till you stop your wordless cries.
Even The Darkness Is Light To Him - Though this song’s lyrics hint at darkness, the melody speaks only of safety in God’s arms. Card takes the helm here, singing almost in a whisper with the electric piano backing. Very soft but upbeat. Even the darkness is light to Him and night is as bright as the day. So you are safe though the light grows dim...
Sweet Sleep Descends - Back to Hernandez and the piano again. This is a song devoid of a chorus, chronicling a mother’s anguish at the difficulty with which her child finally succumbs to sleep. This song feels more heavily produced than it is, though another instrument – a sax? – does take the spotlight atop the piano during a break in the vocals. Throughout the house of faith it’s known the soul finds rest in God alone...
Dreaming Jacob's Dream - Hooray for mandolins! Alluding to my love of folk music, my friend Libbie once teased me that my favorite instrument is the mandolin, and I’ve had a special fondness for it since. Anyway, it makes an appearance here, along with the piano and strings. This song makes reference to the biblical Jacob’s dream in which he wrestled with God, wondering whether the infant being observed is similarly experiencing God first-hand during slumber. Card warmly sings this tune that he dedicated to his own son. You and Jacob aren’t alone; we all need dreams to seek Him.
Song Of Jesus - The guitar is the star in this song, an upbeat ditty helmed by Card that has the feel of an offering by a troubadour. Strings make an appearance now and then, but they’re scarcely needed. This is a short, simple tune that serves as an introduction to Jesus for the youngest of his would-be followers. The note structure, ascending and descending like a flight of stairs, adds to the impression that the song is providing elementary instruction. Let me tell you of a man who was before the world began, who loves you more than anyone can, known by the name of Jesus.
Unseen Warriors - It’s back to Hernandez for this mother’s plea for protection for her baby. It’s a plaintive song backed by electric organ that is basically just a bedtime prayer that has its basis in a verse in Matthew. I presume the warriors in question are angels. Oh, unseen warriors, brothers, friends who for our safety we depend, I ask you now to come defend this precious little baby.
Wordless Ones - The electric piano is the prominent instrument once more, though as with the majority of the songs in which Hernandez takes the lead there is heavier instrumentation, or at least there seems to be. About halfway through Card jumps in to harmonize with Hernandez in this song about parents dedicating their child to God. We offer You this child who’s only ours for just awhile. How could we keep him back from You when You gave Your only child?
He Grants Sleep to the Ones That He Loves - My favorite song on the album. I just really like this one. It’s so tender and even comical at times. Electric piano and understated strings drive the song, while a saxophone makes a couple brief but effective appearances. The vocals are Card’s, conveying the mild frustration and boundless affection of a father putting a child to bed after a very long and trying day. Card turns in another very heartfelt performance, perhaps in part because this song is dedicated to his daughter. For he grants sleep to the ones that he loves, and I live to love you as well. The last words you’ll hear tonight will be ‘I love you,’ for love takes us all of a lifetime to tell.
Jesus Let Us Come to Know You - This song has been featured on several Card albums. The accompanying piano is quite elegant, offsetting the song’s simplicity, its lyrics framed in two-syllable sets ending with a three-syllable set. The harmonica that emerges, taking another verse after Hernandez has finished singing, adds a plaintive tone to the song. There’s something beautifully lonesome about a harmonica, making it a perfect fit for the lyrics which yearn for a connection to the creator. Jesus draw us ever nearer. Hold us in your loving arms. Wrap us in your gentle presence, and when the end comes, bring us home.
All You Are - For whatever reason, guitar and Card seem to go together on this album. This contemplative tune is backed nicely by guitar and bass with strings coming in during the instrumental break. Card’s earnest vocals wrap around lyrics that recall the exquisite Joseph’s Song from The Promise. Though the speaker is discussing an ordinary child an not the song of God here, all children are miracles, especially to the parent holding them in their arms for the first time. For all you are and all you’ll be, for everything you mean to me, though I don’t understand I know you’re from the father’s hand.
Lullaby for the Unborn - A harp accompanies Hernandez for this whispery lullaby sung to a child who has not yet been born. It’s a very short song consisting of only two verses with no repetition. Blessings upon you, my baby unborn, safely inside me asleep and so warm...
Sleepy Eyes - Another song about a child resisting sleep, it’s fairly upbeat and features guitar and bass as well as the occasional mandolin. Card takes the vocals on this song that clocks in at just a minute and a half but still manages to be one of the album’s most endearing. Sleepy eyes, your disguise cannot fool me with its lies. Let the angels come and close your sleepy eyes.
Hold Me Gently - A very pretty little song with lovely legato piano augmented by the saxophone. It’s just Hernandez on this one, and it’s possibly my favorite of her solos, providing a picture of a very intimate relationship with the creator. Live your life within me day by day. So goodnight, my forever friend.
Barocha - The album’s final track is very simple and familiar, a benediction often repeated in church and hung on plaques in hallways. It’s slow, solemn, and all a capella, first one voice, then two, then three, and from what I can tell it’s all Card. The lower register displayed the third time around adds an especially nice dimension. The Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make His face shine upon you, and give you peace, and give you peace, and give you peace forever.
All in all, it’s a very soothing album, perhaps even more so for those old enough to understand the words. Hernandez’ presence works well as she provides a maternal voice to Card’s paternalism, and she does have a lovely voice. However, my favorite tracks all belong to Card. They have a different feel to them, more straightforward perhaps – a little less sappy and a little more earnest. Besides, I tend not to particularly connect with female vocals, while I love Card’s voice. It’s incredibly warm and gentle and remarkably similar to that of Dan Fogelberg, another musician whose work I admire. Its pure timbre is a joy to listen to, and I’m very glad that the lyrics he’s vocalizing are just as worthwhile.
I sometimes feel a bit guilty that essentially my entire musical repertoire consists of “secular” music. I put the term in quotes because it has such a negative ring to it, and I don’t think it should. You don’t have to be singing to a specifically Christian audience in order to have lyrics consistent with Christianity. I find God present in the songs of John Denver, Simon and Garfunkel, Don McLean, James Taylor, Gordon Lightfoot and many, many others whose music would not be featured on a Christian radio station. But while I’m hopelessly devoted to VeggieTales, most of the music sold in Christian bookstores leaves me rather cold.
That is due in large part to a lack of lyrical sophistication. Praise choruses may be easy to sing, but they sure are boring. I was mildly offended when I first heard Baptized in Water, which places very mundane and repetitive lyrics to the tune of Morning Has Broken, one of my very favorite hymns. Personally, I think that’s a melody that ought to be left alone, so perfect is the marriage between words and notes, though I’ll at least give Praise and Thanksgiving credit for trying. Anyway, this is just the stuff we sing in church. What shows up on the radio often lacks rhyme, not to mention verses. And when the lyrics are complex, they’re usually lost in a sea of electric guitars and vocals shouted in order to appeal to a hip young crowd.
Michael Card is different. He fits right in with the finest in the genre of sensitive singer-songwriters, but his lyrics convey a message that is clearly Christian and often strongly rooted in Scripture. Sleep Sound in Jesus is one of a few albums that, instead of focusing mainly on certain stories and passages from the Bible, follows a particular theme with more modern implications. This album is a collection of gentle tunes intended to serenade an infant off into dreamland. Its soothing tone can’t help but induce placid snoozing in older listeners as well.
Sleep Sound In Jesus - This first song, accompanied by strings and electric piano, is reminiscent of the old bedtime prayer most Christian kids learned at a young age: “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep...” Only in this case it’s the parents doing the talking, telling the child to go to sleep and not to worry because God is taking care of him. Betsy Hernandez, who is a prominent presence throughout the album, takes the first verse, Card the second, and the third they sing together. Know for His sake you’ll be safe for the night. Sleep sound in Jesus. I’ll turn off the light.
He'll Wipe Away Your Tears - Hernandez takes this one by herself with the accompaniment of a piano and later a harp. There seems to be a slight Jewish air about this song, which is based on two verses in Revelation. It’s nice but more minor-toned than most of the tracks, and given its source it carries with it shadows of gearing up for a grim battle. Nonetheless, the focus is on God providing comfort. He’ll wipe away your tears and still your restless sighs, and lovingly He’ll listen till you stop your wordless cries.
Even The Darkness Is Light To Him - Though this song’s lyrics hint at darkness, the melody speaks only of safety in God’s arms. Card takes the helm here, singing almost in a whisper with the electric piano backing. Very soft but upbeat. Even the darkness is light to Him and night is as bright as the day. So you are safe though the light grows dim...
Sweet Sleep Descends - Back to Hernandez and the piano again. This is a song devoid of a chorus, chronicling a mother’s anguish at the difficulty with which her child finally succumbs to sleep. This song feels more heavily produced than it is, though another instrument – a sax? – does take the spotlight atop the piano during a break in the vocals. Throughout the house of faith it’s known the soul finds rest in God alone...
Dreaming Jacob's Dream - Hooray for mandolins! Alluding to my love of folk music, my friend Libbie once teased me that my favorite instrument is the mandolin, and I’ve had a special fondness for it since. Anyway, it makes an appearance here, along with the piano and strings. This song makes reference to the biblical Jacob’s dream in which he wrestled with God, wondering whether the infant being observed is similarly experiencing God first-hand during slumber. Card warmly sings this tune that he dedicated to his own son. You and Jacob aren’t alone; we all need dreams to seek Him.
Song Of Jesus - The guitar is the star in this song, an upbeat ditty helmed by Card that has the feel of an offering by a troubadour. Strings make an appearance now and then, but they’re scarcely needed. This is a short, simple tune that serves as an introduction to Jesus for the youngest of his would-be followers. The note structure, ascending and descending like a flight of stairs, adds to the impression that the song is providing elementary instruction. Let me tell you of a man who was before the world began, who loves you more than anyone can, known by the name of Jesus.
Unseen Warriors - It’s back to Hernandez for this mother’s plea for protection for her baby. It’s a plaintive song backed by electric organ that is basically just a bedtime prayer that has its basis in a verse in Matthew. I presume the warriors in question are angels. Oh, unseen warriors, brothers, friends who for our safety we depend, I ask you now to come defend this precious little baby.
Wordless Ones - The electric piano is the prominent instrument once more, though as with the majority of the songs in which Hernandez takes the lead there is heavier instrumentation, or at least there seems to be. About halfway through Card jumps in to harmonize with Hernandez in this song about parents dedicating their child to God. We offer You this child who’s only ours for just awhile. How could we keep him back from You when You gave Your only child?
He Grants Sleep to the Ones That He Loves - My favorite song on the album. I just really like this one. It’s so tender and even comical at times. Electric piano and understated strings drive the song, while a saxophone makes a couple brief but effective appearances. The vocals are Card’s, conveying the mild frustration and boundless affection of a father putting a child to bed after a very long and trying day. Card turns in another very heartfelt performance, perhaps in part because this song is dedicated to his daughter. For he grants sleep to the ones that he loves, and I live to love you as well. The last words you’ll hear tonight will be ‘I love you,’ for love takes us all of a lifetime to tell.
Jesus Let Us Come to Know You - This song has been featured on several Card albums. The accompanying piano is quite elegant, offsetting the song’s simplicity, its lyrics framed in two-syllable sets ending with a three-syllable set. The harmonica that emerges, taking another verse after Hernandez has finished singing, adds a plaintive tone to the song. There’s something beautifully lonesome about a harmonica, making it a perfect fit for the lyrics which yearn for a connection to the creator. Jesus draw us ever nearer. Hold us in your loving arms. Wrap us in your gentle presence, and when the end comes, bring us home.
All You Are - For whatever reason, guitar and Card seem to go together on this album. This contemplative tune is backed nicely by guitar and bass with strings coming in during the instrumental break. Card’s earnest vocals wrap around lyrics that recall the exquisite Joseph’s Song from The Promise. Though the speaker is discussing an ordinary child an not the song of God here, all children are miracles, especially to the parent holding them in their arms for the first time. For all you are and all you’ll be, for everything you mean to me, though I don’t understand I know you’re from the father’s hand.
Lullaby for the Unborn - A harp accompanies Hernandez for this whispery lullaby sung to a child who has not yet been born. It’s a very short song consisting of only two verses with no repetition. Blessings upon you, my baby unborn, safely inside me asleep and so warm...
Sleepy Eyes - Another song about a child resisting sleep, it’s fairly upbeat and features guitar and bass as well as the occasional mandolin. Card takes the vocals on this song that clocks in at just a minute and a half but still manages to be one of the album’s most endearing. Sleepy eyes, your disguise cannot fool me with its lies. Let the angels come and close your sleepy eyes.
Hold Me Gently - A very pretty little song with lovely legato piano augmented by the saxophone. It’s just Hernandez on this one, and it’s possibly my favorite of her solos, providing a picture of a very intimate relationship with the creator. Live your life within me day by day. So goodnight, my forever friend.
Barocha - The album’s final track is very simple and familiar, a benediction often repeated in church and hung on plaques in hallways. It’s slow, solemn, and all a capella, first one voice, then two, then three, and from what I can tell it’s all Card. The lower register displayed the third time around adds an especially nice dimension. The Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make His face shine upon you, and give you peace, and give you peace, and give you peace forever.
All in all, it’s a very soothing album, perhaps even more so for those old enough to understand the words. Hernandez’ presence works well as she provides a maternal voice to Card’s paternalism, and she does have a lovely voice. However, my favorite tracks all belong to Card. They have a different feel to them, more straightforward perhaps – a little less sappy and a little more earnest. Besides, I tend not to particularly connect with female vocals, while I love Card’s voice. It’s incredibly warm and gentle and remarkably similar to that of Dan Fogelberg, another musician whose work I admire. Its pure timbre is a joy to listen to, and I’m very glad that the lyrics he’s vocalizing are just as worthwhile.
Thursday, September 6, 2001
A Musical Journey Through the Life of Jesus
When I was in second grade, my uncle first introduced my dad to Michael Card with The Life. He proceeded to play it prolifically, and I soon fell in love with collection of spiritually stirring songs, to the point that I was scrupulously transcribing the lyrics into my notebook so I could carry them around with me all day. This was only the first of many albums which we would purchase. Additionally, my dad went on to get me two piano books -- one of which was for this album -- and to purchase several of Card's books. He even devoted a Bible study series to Card's music.
I continue to regard Michael Card as one of the most talented composers and poets I have encountered, not to mention a very powerful example of a Christian witness. In this album, Card chronicles the life of Jesus (hence the title), from before He was born until after He ascended. The two-disc album covers a variety of musical styles ranging from meditative to joyful to harsh to gentle. Each song is masterfully crafted, and it's a shame they don't get more air time. Admittedly, I more frequently listen to classic rock or oldies stations on the radio, but I've spent enough time on Christian radio stations to know I'm much more likely to hear Michael W. Smith, Jars of Clay, or DC Talk. And I don't think I've ever heard one of the songs from this album on the radio.
The album begins with Overture to the Trilogy, a long instrumental piece incorporating the melodies of several songs on the album and ending with Card cantoring the first lines of John a capella. "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. And the Word became flesh (and the word became flesh) and dwelt among us." This segues directly into The Promise, a quiet tune about how Jesus was not what anyone expected. "The Promise showed their wildest dreams had simply not been wild enough."
Immanuel is a very long song, and one of Michael Card's most famous. While The Promise is more guitar-intensive, Immanuel leans heavily on strings to give the richest possible flavor to the message "our God is with us, and if God is with us, who can stand against us?". Also contains a classic example of Card's love affair with alliteration when he describes Jesus as "a human baby bearing undiminished deity".
Carmen Christi, To the Mystery and The Final Word all are pretty upbeat, dealing alternatively with the nature of Christ and our response to it. While To the Mystery acknowledges our inability to fully grasp who Jesus is, instructing us to "give up on (y)our pondering and fall down on (y)our knees", the others shed light on who Jesus is. "At Jesus' name every knee shall bow in Heaven and in all the Earth. To the Father's glory, each tongue cry 'Jesus is Lord'..." (Carmen Christi) "He spoke the incarnation and then so was born the Son. His Final Word was Jesus, he needed no other one." (The Final Word).
Spirit of the Age is one of the harsh ones, warning against the force of evil which seeks to draw us in. This song matches the mood of the final three selections, Scandalon, describing Jesus in prophecy as "the truth who will offend us one and all, a stone to make them stumble and a rock to make them fall", What Will it Take to Keep You from Jesus, which answers its question with "a simple excuse from a heart that is hard, a reason that's nothing at all", and The Lamb is a Lion, which shows God "roaring with rage at the empty religion that's filling His days".
Celebrate the Child, which follows Spirit of the Age, jubilantly proclaims the arrival of the savior who will bring the world out of darkness into light. Joseph's Song is a beautiful meditation sung in the person of Joseph, who wonders "how can a man be father to the son of God?". Jesus Let us Come to Know You is a simple but lovely lullaby expressing a desire to know Jesus as fully as possible.
Meditation/Baptism is the last track on this disc before the aforementioned three. This, like the album's first track, is instrumental, and it also refers to other songs on the album.
The second disc is concerned primarily with Jesus' ministry, death, and resurrection. The Wedding recalls the miracle of changing the water into wine at Cana while also working in a contemporary context, inviting Jesus to be present at the ceremony which signals the start of a new life for both man and wife. "Lord of Light, please come to this wedding. Chase the doubt and darkness away. Turn the water of lifeless living to the wine of gladness we pray."
The Nazarene is a fairly simple song which demonstrates how human Jesus was despite -- or because of -- his divinity. "The fact of his humanity was there for all to see, for He was unlike any other man and yet so much like me." The Gentle Healer is perhaps the simplest song on the album, and certainly very gentle. Sung in a cappela, it shows how the perceptions of His followers changed from their initial characterization of Him as a "gentle healer" to their ultimate conclusion that He is "the Truth, the Light, the Way".
Forgiving Eyes, is a gorgeous song for the piano whose verses start out despairing but eventually swell into the hopeful chorus, signalled by a key change. It is sung from the perspective of the woman about to be stoned for adultery when Jesus interceded. "Just when I saw Him, the hope I had lost became born again. I was not hopeless. Though I'd been lost, now I felt I was found when He looked at me with those forgiving eyes."
God's Own Fool is likewise an excellent piece for the piano, and it introduces one of Card's favorite themes: paradox. Additionally, it is one of the few songs in his repertoire which Card sings falsetto. I can, in fact, only think of one other instance, though there may be more. The song weighs the way Jesus must have appeared to His worldly contemporaries against His divine reality, encouraging us to embrace the latter. "So we follow God's own fool that only the foolish can tell. Believe the unbelievable; come be a fool as well."
Why employs the classic question-and-answer song format to demand why Jesus had to go through what He did, from the betrayal by his friend to the thorns to the cross. Each response provides an eloquent and convincing reason, culminating in the notion that "Jesus had come into the world to steal every heart away".
Known by the Scars and Traitor's Look are both pretty intense. The former refers to Jesus' appearance before the apostles and His method of convincing Thomas of His true identity. The latter is a diatribe against Judas which ends in the startling confession that many of us have betrayed Jesus ourselves in our ordinary lives.
Ride on to Die and In the Garden are the most mournful songs on this album. The first sees past the jubilation of the moment (Palm Sunday) to the agony that will follow, while the second hints at the jubilation that will follow the current agony in the garden of Gethsemane.
Come to the Table is neither gloomy nor harsh, but it encourages Jesus' apostles to savor this Last Supper together, warning that "the One who is breaking the bread soon will be broken". Cross of Glory progresses to the scene of Jesus death, noting with increasing joy the significance of His sacrifice.
Finally, He Was Heard, Crown Him, and Joy in the Journey are all triumphant in their own right, jubilantly acknowledging that Christ has won the victory. Crown Him is the most exuberant of the three, while Joy in the Journey, which concludes the album, is soothing and reflective, remarking on the happiness inherent in a life lived with the Lord.
Quite an impressive undertaking, not only for Card but for the listeners as well. Card's compositions challenge us to think more deeply about our faith and the events of scripture, encouraging us to visit our Bibles often. Other albums contain songs about the life of Jesus, particularly his Christmas albums, and Card has also extensively covered portions of the Hebrew Scriptures and of Revelation and Hebrews, not to mention some songs which are not taken directly from scripture. But I consider this the most essential of his albums. Start with The Life, and let the music continue to impact your own life.
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