Farty’s Oyster Barn Presents… Pass The Nog! D-Sisive Croons the Ol’ Christmas Classics at the Yuletide Jamboree
A cynical soul would suggest that Christmas music — that inescapable tripe pumped into stores, shopping malls, radio stations and parking lots — represents the worst traits of a heartless pop music industry concerned more about cash grabs than good cheer. And they’d be right.
A quick scan of the top selling albums on iTunes at the very moment of writing this includes Christmas albums from Pentatonix, Michael Bublé, Boney M, the Now 25 Christmas compilation, something called the 30 Stars of Christmas, The No. 1 Christmas Legends, A Charlie Brown Christmas and holiday songs from Blue Rodeo, all in the Top 20. By the time the Top 50 is scanned there are another 11 Xmas albums from the likes of Johnny Reid, Kenny Rogers & Dolly Parton, Mariah Carey and Elvis Presley.
These records are all garbage.
Sure, there have been a few moments of festive music glory in the past. Like Bing Crosby & David Bowie’s “Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy” from 1977, the supercut of Darlene Love singing three decades of “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” on David Letterman, or Canned Hamm’s heartfelt ode “Rum And Eggnog.” These artistic high-waters remain isolated incidents, though. Truly rare moments of cosmic Christmas spirit manifesting itself into beautiful music. Never has anyone been able to build the concept of Christmas music into a full album, an uncompromised, unimpeachable work blessed by the holy hands of Santa Claus, Jesus and the new commie Pope.
Until now.
Farty’s Oyster Barn Presents… Pass The Nog! D-Sisive Croons the Ol’ Christmas Classics at the Yuletide Jamboree, the new Christmas album by internationally recognized rap-crooner D-Sisive is that unique gem of an album. Recorded live at the Newmarket Cultural Arts Centre, the multiple-time Juno Award nominee lends his voice to classics like “Here Comes Santa Claus,” “White Christmas” and “Joy To The World” with a beautiful gravitas not even his romantic and professional rival Bublé can match.
In fact, the passion on display in Pass The Nog is so strong there are multiple points where the spirit compels D-Sisive into fits of swearing mid-song. Taking the Lord’s name in vain around Christmastime is undeniably a sin, but there’s no vanity here. This is the Christmas spirit personified: the sparkling lights of the tree, the sound of reindeer on the roof, the lecherous gaze of Santa Claus as he kisses your mom… this is what we’ve all been waiting for.
It was this week some 30 years ago that Athens, GA band R.E.M. released their first proper studio album Murmur, kickstarting a career that would yield dozens of worldwide hits, 15 studio albums and James Mercer’s eternal ire because he knows The Shins will never be as good as them.
Murmur is an exceptional album with brilliant catalog tracks “Talk About the Passion” and “Radio Free Europe.” Robert Christgau gave it an A-, Rolling Stone a 4/5 and, more recently, Pitchfork drooled a 10/10 all over the deluxe reissue.
The thing is, the noise from former campus radio DJs and ex-indie record store owners about this album and other early R.E.M. records can get mighty cloying after a certain amount of time. After all, if you listen objectively, a lot of those early songs are pretty much nonsense.
In fact, you can fairly ramp up criticism about any phase of R.E.M.’s career. Their mid-period featuring Green, Out of Time and Automatic for the People was both commercial and critical gold, but there are some wafting imperfections about them, too.
And there’s a solid segment of R.E.M.ers who refuse to take anything seriously the band did post-New Adventures in Hi-Fi — the last album with founding member Bill Berry — but there are some disrespected gems from those years as well.
We can’t stand this murmuring, muddled debate. So we decided to clear the air once and for all. Here, then, are R.E.M.’s 15 studio albums, ranked from worst to best:
Click to launch the gallery below:
15. UP (1998) This is R.E.M.’s “electronic” record and it sits comfortably beside Chris Cornell’s lounge singer period and U2’s attempts at doing “industrial music” as things that should never have been.
14. OUT OF TIME (1991) “Shiny Happy People” can shiny happy suck my left one. And if you want awkward ebony ‘n’ ivory pop that pre-dates Brad Paisley and LL Cool J by two decades, may I present “Radio Song” with KRS-One.
13. RECKONING (1984) One song. “So. Central Rain (I’m Sorry).” And I am sorry. Sorry for you slobs in your original Husker Du t-shirts and failed dreams who consider this R.E.M.’s best moment.
12. REVEAL (2001) Michael Stipe officially came out as gay during the promo of this record. The thing is, he had been photographed a decade earlier with Morrissey and his favorite hobby was photography. Dude. We had it figured a long time ago. And trying to use it as a marketing tool was lame.
11. NEW ADVENTURES IN HI-FI (1996) A sprawling, all-over-the-place response (arguably) to Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, this hey-we-can-put-75-minutes-of-music-on-a-CD album (technically 62) isn’t so much bad as it represents the cresting of the alternative revolution. After which it was all Stone Temple Pilots, Creed and end of days.
10. GREEN (1988) The second side of this album and A-side straggler “World Leader Pretend” quite possibly represent all the best parts of R.E.M. Unfortunately, you have to wade through dork bait “Pop Song 89,” “Stand” and “Get Up” to reach them.
9. ACCELERATE (2008) There is nothing memorable about this album, good or bad.
8. FABLES OF THE RECONSTRUCTION (1985) “Driver 8” and “Kohoutek” are exceptional and the gauzy deep south romance of this album pre-dates Jim White’s “Searching for the Wrong-Eyed Jesus” by almost two decade. Thing is, at the same time R.E.M. were doing this, John Cougar was making straight-up heartland-loving records like Scarecrow that had a political bite and power far greater than arty adventures.
7. COLLAPSE INTO NOW (2011) I don’t like this record. But I respect it. Because the band made it, then listened to it, then looked at each other and said “Fuck this. We’re out.”
6. MURMUR (1983) The reason why we’re all here. A noble beginning, but there’s not much reason to go back to it regularly.
5. AROUND THE SUN (2004) This is not a popular album, in part because its aw-shucks adult-contempo-ness flirts with the same territory as Train and Rob Thomas and whoever those other similar acts sound like (I don’t actually know what they sound like, so this is mostly a triangulating guess). BUT, there’s some legit world-weary melancholy here if you’re looking for it, and that’s very telling in a time ‘n’ place kinda way.
4. DOCUMENT (1987) For decades I’ve considered this my fave R.E.M. record. But I just this second figured out that I never bothered to buy it on CD (just cassette and vinyl), which is telling. That, and I’ve grown out of the obviousness of “It’s the End of the World as We Know it (And I Feel Fine).”
3. AUTOMATIC FOR THE PEOPLE (1992) To many this is R.E.M.’s crowning achievement. It’s also the band’s most eye-rollingly melodramatic one. Seriously, the world NEVER needs to see another sad (or ironically sad) cinematic montage to “Everybody Hurts.” And “Man on the Moon”? Props for the Freddie Blassie nod from a bunch of pencil-necked geeks, but we don’t need to hear it anymore. “Monty Got a Raw Deal” is the album’s best song. And like Rodney Dangerfield, it gets no respect.
2. LIFES RICH PAGEANT (1986) I blame the lyrics of “Swan Swan H” for this not being first: Swan, swan, hummingbird Hurrah, we are all free now What noisy cats are we Girl and dog he bore his cross Swan, swan, hummingbird Hurrah, we are all free now A long, low time ago, people talk to me Johnny Reb, what’s the price of fans? Forty a piece or three for one dollar Hey captain, don’t you want to buy Some bone chains and toothpicks? Night wings, her hair chains, Here’s your wooden greenback, sing Wooden beams and dovetail sweep I struck that picture ninety times, I walked that path a hundred ninety, Long, low time ago, people talk to me Pistol hot cup of rhyme The whiskey is water, the water is wine Marching feet, Johnny Reb, what’s the price of heroes? Six of one, half dozen the other, Tell that to the captain’s mother, Hey captain, don’t you want to buy, Some bone chains and toothpicks? Night wings, her hair chains Swan, swan, hummingbird Hurrah, we are all free now What noisy cats are we Long, low time ago, people talk to me Pistol hot cup of rhyme The whiskey is water, the water is wine
1. MONSTER (1994) There is perhaps no more maligned R.E.M. album pre- or post-Berry than the garage rock buzzfest known as Monster. Everyone hated it. “Star 69” is annoying. And “What’s the Frequency, Kenneth?” is pointless, even in a retro-reclamation “30 Rock” world. Once you get past those songs, though, shit gets real. This is the one single album in R.E.M.’s career where they went honey badger and didn’t give a fuck. It’s all “Fuck hits. Yeah, garage rock.” Fuzz, fuzz, fuzz. “Don’t like it? Fuck you.” I remember buying this record in a used store’s bargain bin for $3 almost 20 years ago and you can probably get it now for $2. For value this would be the best $2 you’d spend on music in a long time.
This article originally appeared on AOL’s Spinner website on April 11, 2013.
I pretty much only like the song “Daniel” from this album. And it’s not like an intense gut-deep like, either. It’s just a, “Yeah, that’s pretty good.” Really, I’m not sure how this made it onto the list.
9. Dan Auerbach Keep It Hid
The Black Keys hadn’t quite really become THE BLACK KEYS yet, so I didn’t really know the name “Dan Auerbach” and took this record in on first listen with little preconception. The result? I dug it. Funny, if this same record came out right now I probably wouldn’t be as open to diggin’ its blues rock. This is perhaps my own failing.
8. The Veils Sun Gangs
Only recently did I learn that former Suede pillar Bernard Butler produced part of this album. It makes sense. The Veils are a high drama band and the music on Sun Gangs is perfectly designed for those predisposed towards flinging themselves onto their day beds when they catch the vapors. “It Hits Deep” is pretty sublime.
7. Lhasa Lhasa
I burn with rage when I think of this album. Not because it’s bad — it’s truly, astoundingly, deeply beautiful — but because my peers on the Polaris Music Prize jury didn’t think enough of the album to vote it to the 2009 Short List. This, even with the shouldn’t-officially-matter-but-definitely-does narrative juice of Lhasa de Sela’s advanced cancer at the time.
6. The Flaming Lips Embryonic
This album was cool and all, but we’ve pretty much reached peak Wayne Coyne, right? A good decade-long time out for the Lips would probably be just about right for everyone.
5. D-Sisive Let The Children Die
There aren’t exactly a wealth of truly “classic” Canadian rap albums, but Let The Children Die might be one of them. If not full classic, then it’s at least a pioneering disc. Listen carefully to almost any hoser rap record released since then and when that inevitable heart-on-sleeve, song-about-the-struggle comes on you can fairly argue it exists as a direct lineal descendant of the songs on Let The Children Die.
4. K-Dot-O-Dot The Life And Times Of Lucha Lonely
Between this album and Let The Children Die I was convinced Canadian hip-hop was on the vanguard of some brilliant new mope-rap scene/sub-genre. It would be all about this inward-searching, deeply confessional personal insight and less about whatever worst case typecasting you’d want to assign to the worst bits of late-’00s urban music. I ended up being half right. There was a shift to this sort of intense, soul-bearing hip-hop… except it ended up manifesting itself in the much higher gloss form of Drake and all his subsequent shade-of-grey, marketshare-powered spinoffs (see The Weeknd). Apparently sad-sack raps from fat, drunk losers were not what the kids wanted to hear.
3. Alela Diane To Be Still
If we’re being dismissive, Alela Diane is just another in an endless line of School of Joni balladeers who are oh so common on the fringes of coffeehouse open mic nights. To do that, though, would be to miss out on a truly sublime voice. “The Ocean” in particular is a brilliant, melancholy exploration on what it means to sacrifice love for a dream.
2. Timber Timbre Timber Timbre
This was the other album I was super-furious about the Polaris jury not giving more love to. Sure they made up for it by short-listing the next Timber Timbre record, but that felt at least halfway a make-up call.
1. Gallows Grey Britain
It takes a lot for a heavy music record to affect me. I’ve got the requisite rage in my soul, but most of the time hard rock just doesn’t get it right. Not Grey Britain, though. This album speaks. And not just to me. It’s for the millennials left behind, the ones who aren’t cool enough to navigate Tumblr memes, whose parents can’t afford to let them go to school for seven years. It’s for those kids who get scheduled for 18 hours a week at work and when they ask for 40 hours they get laid off. It’s for the kids who’ve looked around, realized everything’s fucked and just want to set it all on fire.
The only reason I can think for Grey Britain not being as big as Nevermind is there’s too much truth for people to handle.
Other album lists…
2015 Top Ten — SUUNS + Jerusalem In My Heart SUUNS + Jerusalem In My Heart is #1 2014 Top Ten — Sharon Van Etten’s Are We There is #1 2013 Top Ten — M.I.A.’s Matangi is #1 2012 Top Ten — Dirty Ghosts’ Metal Moon is #1 2011 Top Ten — Timber Timbre’s Creep On Creepin’ On is #1 2010 Top Ten — The Black Angels’ Phosphene Dream is #1 2009 Top Ten — Gallows’ Grey Britain is #1 2008 Top Ten — Portishead’s Third is #1 2007 Top Ten — Joel Plaskett Emergency’s Ashtray Rock is #1 2006 Top Ten — My Brightest Diamond’s Bring Me The Workhorse is #1 2005 Top Ten — Black Rebel Motorcycle Club’s Howl is #1 2004 Top Ten — Morrissey’s You Are The Quarry is #1 2003 Top Ten — The Dears’ No Cities Left is #1 2002 Top Ten — Archive’s You All Look The Same To Me is #1 2001 Top Ten — Gord Downie’s Coke Machine Glow is #1 2000 Top Ten — Songs: Ohia’s The Lioness is #1 1999 Top Ten — The Boo Radleys’ Kingsize is #1 1998 Top Ten — Baxter’s Baxter is #1 1996 Top Ten — Tricky’s Maxinquaye is #1
Risky Fuel 