American Pie: "It's The Holiday Season And Santa Claus Is Coming Back...''
...The population of the USA has long been unable to do anything without the accompaniment of music – all kinds of music. It blasts out at you when you’re in your car, waiting at a light. Your neighbor plays it while he’s barbecuing. It floats or vibrates from every open window, pops out of greeting cards and oozes out of the earphone that doesn’t quite fit in the ear of your fellow passenger on the bus, the train and the airplane...
And John Merchant, in a Grinchy mood, is far from enchanted by the Christmas music whis is currently blasting, floating, vibrating, popping and oozing into his ears as the USA goes Christmas mad.
My title is taken from the song “Happy Holiday” made famous by Bing Crosby et al. With catchy words like “It's the holiday season - With the whoop-de-do and hickory dock - And don't forget to hang up your sock,” who could resist it? Well I could, but then I’m the Holiday Grinch who would like to steal most of the season’s songs and lock them away until next year.
The population of the USA has long been unable to do anything without the accompaniment of music – all kinds of music. It blasts out at you when you’re in your car, waiting at a light. Your neighbor plays it while he’s barbecuing. It floats or vibrates from every open window, pops out of greeting cards and oozes out of the earphone that doesn’t quite fit in the ear of your fellow passenger on the bus, the train and the airplane.
In the gym, Zumba is going on in the exercise room, competing with the PA system that is playing Country and Western music. It’s bedlam!
I suppose it all started with elevator music, Muzac as it’s called. With the advent of portable radios, followed quickly by car radios, music for everyone, everywhere, was off and running. Once the electronics people got the hang of it, a virtual avalanche of music playing devices buried peace and quiet forever.
Eight track tapes were soon superseded by cassette tapes, then the Walkman, and most recently all the “i” gadgets. At least these modern devices aren’t as intrusive as their forbears, and the only penalty for using them is hearing loss later, and if you believe the most negative reports, brain damage.
In department stores, music is inescapable, and if you happen to be standing in a bedding department that is adjacent to a teenage clothing department you will experience the surreal effect of heavy metal and light classical blending together; well, not quite blending. In the supermarket you will be treated to the golden oldies, presumably because they think only old folk shop for food anymore.
In the Christmas season, which in the US runs anywhere from October onwards, carols and pop Christmas music fill the air. It seems ironic to be hearing carols celebrating the birth of Christianity while shopping in the kosher isle.
Christmas Muzak in public places usually is a mixture of old favorites and desperate attempts to update the old songs and create new ones. To my ear, the new carols are feeble and contrived to make money, and the updates are gruesome at best. A Country and Western version of “O Holy Night” just doesn’t cut it for me, any more than does a gospel version of any of the old standards.
Gospel music is exciting and powerful when sung by a Baptist church choir, in a church; but all the screaming and wailing does absolutely nothing for “He Came Upon a Midnight Clear,” heard on the radio in a local bar. Unfortunately, many of the black American pop singers came to prominence through membership in gospel choirs, so the gospel inflection is present in most of what they sing.
Whilst brooding on my Grinchy thoughts, it occurred to me that all the definitive, popular versions of Christmas songs and carols were probably recorded years ago. Performances by the likes of Bing Crosby, Rosemary Clooney, Perry Como and Andy Williams never pall and will likely live on forever.
And for the classic carols, some dating back to medieval times, it would be hard to surpass the renderings of the Christ Church Cathedral Choir in Oxford, England, or the American Robert Shaw Chorale and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.
But in the end, I suppose my Grinchyness has less to do with the music, or Muzak, and more to do with not wanting to have someone else selecting what I listen to and when. Just when I’m in the mood for the Coventry Corol “Lullay, lullay thou little tiny child,” dating from 1591, I’m apt to be treated to the moanings of Ray Charles singing “Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” which does not hit the spot, notwithstanding his heart-breaking rendition.
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To read more of John's supremely entertaining columns please visit
http://www.openwriting.com/cgi-bin/mt-search.cgi?IncludeBlogs=1&search=john+merchant
And do visit his Web site
http://home.comcast.net/~jwmerchant/site/
