There's been a post doing the rounds where bloggers have been sharing their favourite Christmas songs. I've already mentioned a couple of mine, and told you how much I love and revel in Christmas music.
But even I have my least favourites. They are (in ascending order of awfulness):
1) Anything recorded sung by children. I don't mind hearing children sing. It's sweet. Lots of them have lovely voices. So why, when they make recordings of popular Christmas songs for the mass market, why on EARTH, do they recruit children who can't sing in tune? There is nothing cute about children singing flat. Or sharp. And putting a quasi-adorable picture on the front of the box, of several smiling children of different races is not going to persuade me otherwise.
2) The Little Drummer Boy carol. It's boring, tedious, gloomy, and factually ridiculous (little drummer boy goes to play drum for sleeping newborn baby - I hope Mary gave him what for). I grant an exemption from my loathing of this carol to David Bowie and Bing Crosby, who do a nice job of making it into a duet. It is the only exemption I will allow.
3) Frosty the Snowman. I don't know what it is about this song (I'm not going to elevate it to 'carol' status), but I really hate and detest it. I don't even know the lyrics. I looked them up for the purposes of this blog post, and frankly, I was happier when I didn't know them. Anyone else share my detestation?
If you don't share mine, what are your LEAST favourite Christmas songs?
.
Showing posts with label carols. Show all posts
Showing posts with label carols. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Saturday, December 17, 2011
The Music of Christmas: Part l
I love Christmas. I always have. I think I've mentioned that before (and since a quick check reveals that I've written 18 posts to date with the label Christmas, I expect I have mentioned it more than once). And one of the best things about Christmas is the music. I love Christmas music. I love it all.
I love the familiar favourites about Santa and snowmen and reindeer and children, rehashed in scores of ways, played over wobbly sound systems in shops, abused as the background music to adverts on tv, warbled by children in school concerts.
I love the jolly ancient songs about wassailing. They make me think of our medieval forbears cheering themselves in the dark, dank, muddy, winter days, with a wassail bowl and a hog roast and a roaring fire. (Oh, thank heavens for central heating, fast food and shopping malls.)
I love carols, careful carriers of theological truths down the ages before most people could read and write. I used to love my 12" black vinyl record of carols, with a picture of snow-laden Christmas trees on the front. (I wonder if I still have it somewhere?) I love all those David Willcocks arrangements from Carols for Choirs. What a genius that man was. My favourite Christmas hymn is Of the Father's Love Begotten, which we had at our wedding (in January, not quite Christmas, but still Epiphany and therefore seasonal). It's based on a hymn written in the 4th century. It's old.
I love the Nine Lessons and Carols from King's College, Cambridge on Christmas Eve. I sat and listened to it with my grandmother in the last month of her life in 1983. I had just got a fancy radio/cassette player which I was rather pleased with - it had two built-in speakers, taking me to the lofty heights of stereo sophistication. She needed an oxygen mask on during parts of the service. It's one of my loveliest memories.
I love modern classics, All I want for Christmas is You, Santa Baby, Let it Snow, War is Over, Slade's So Here It Is - all of them. My favourite in this category is Paul McCartney's Wonderful Christmastime. There's something about that song that just gets me between the ribs.
I love mystic-sounding madrigals on CDs which have the word Celtic in the title, with pictures on the front of people in hooded garb, gazing mysteriously across misty landscapes. (Incidentally, don't you think the current iPod generation misses out, with downloadable music which has no need of album covers?)
I even love the offensively vacuous Kidz Compilationz CDs we have. I'm going to have to use the word 'festive' at this point. You know the kind. Lots of jingles and jangles and a good strong beat, where Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer morphs into Ding Dong Merrily on High which segues into We Wish You a Merry Christmas which blends into Away in a Manger which transmutes into Deck the Halls. We have one version in which they sing 'bows' of holly instead of 'boughs'. Falala-lala to that.
Ah yes. Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without the music. I love it all. Well... Almost all...
NB I've sent this post to Notes from Home for her Christmas Carnival. If you're writing about Christmas, why don't you join in too?
.
I love the familiar favourites about Santa and snowmen and reindeer and children, rehashed in scores of ways, played over wobbly sound systems in shops, abused as the background music to adverts on tv, warbled by children in school concerts.
I love the jolly ancient songs about wassailing. They make me think of our medieval forbears cheering themselves in the dark, dank, muddy, winter days, with a wassail bowl and a hog roast and a roaring fire. (Oh, thank heavens for central heating, fast food and shopping malls.)
I love carols, careful carriers of theological truths down the ages before most people could read and write. I used to love my 12" black vinyl record of carols, with a picture of snow-laden Christmas trees on the front. (I wonder if I still have it somewhere?) I love all those David Willcocks arrangements from Carols for Choirs. What a genius that man was. My favourite Christmas hymn is Of the Father's Love Begotten, which we had at our wedding (in January, not quite Christmas, but still Epiphany and therefore seasonal). It's based on a hymn written in the 4th century. It's old.
I love the Nine Lessons and Carols from King's College, Cambridge on Christmas Eve. I sat and listened to it with my grandmother in the last month of her life in 1983. I had just got a fancy radio/cassette player which I was rather pleased with - it had two built-in speakers, taking me to the lofty heights of stereo sophistication. She needed an oxygen mask on during parts of the service. It's one of my loveliest memories.
I love modern classics, All I want for Christmas is You, Santa Baby, Let it Snow, War is Over, Slade's So Here It Is - all of them. My favourite in this category is Paul McCartney's Wonderful Christmastime. There's something about that song that just gets me between the ribs.
I love mystic-sounding madrigals on CDs which have the word Celtic in the title, with pictures on the front of people in hooded garb, gazing mysteriously across misty landscapes. (Incidentally, don't you think the current iPod generation misses out, with downloadable music which has no need of album covers?)
I even love the offensively vacuous Kidz Compilationz CDs we have. I'm going to have to use the word 'festive' at this point. You know the kind. Lots of jingles and jangles and a good strong beat, where Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer morphs into Ding Dong Merrily on High which segues into We Wish You a Merry Christmas which blends into Away in a Manger which transmutes into Deck the Halls. We have one version in which they sing 'bows' of holly instead of 'boughs'. Falala-lala to that.
Ah yes. Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without the music. I love it all. Well... Almost all...
NB I've sent this post to Notes from Home for her Christmas Carnival. If you're writing about Christmas, why don't you join in too?
.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Christmas words
We had a few interesting linguistic excursions in our house over the Christmas break.
I don't go out of my way to encourage rogue versions of carols, although the last few posts might lead you to think so. Nonetheless, 4-yo came up with her own. She would sing
"Deck the halls with boughs of holly
'Tis the season to be naughty"
and then laugh uproariously. (Try saying it with an American accent, and you'll see that the rhyme is closer than it looks.)
Then 8-yo asked the following question:
"You know when a boy thinks a girl is pretty, he says she's hot? Well, if he thinks she isn't pretty, does he say she's cold?"
Good question. Meanwhile, one of the little presents that Santa put in 4-yo's stocking was a packet of panties (her older brothers will never understand how panties and socks could possibly count as presents, for heaven's sake, but luckily Santa understands girls as well as he understands boys). Husband picked up the packet and said "oh, low rise panties. At first glance I thought it said low risk panties." Bridget Jones, you have so much to answer for.
Then there was a totally bizarre moment at the lunch table. We were enjoying smoked salmon, and encouraging the kids to try it. 4-yo asked the question "Is Gran smoked?" Hm. You're always told to answer kids honestly, so I replied "No. Um. No. Gran isn't smoked." That seemed an honest response.
It was only after long pondering that I worked out the background to the question. A couple of weeks before Christmas, 11-yo's class had been discussing the evils of smoking. I had been telling him how in his grandparents' generation, many people smoked, because they didn't know how bad it was for you. His grandparents had done so, but had given up when the ill effects became known.
Smoked salmon. Grandparents who smoked. Isn't the world a complicated place for a 4 year old?
I don't go out of my way to encourage rogue versions of carols, although the last few posts might lead you to think so. Nonetheless, 4-yo came up with her own. She would sing
"Deck the halls with boughs of holly
'Tis the season to be naughty"
and then laugh uproariously. (Try saying it with an American accent, and you'll see that the rhyme is closer than it looks.)
Then 8-yo asked the following question:
"You know when a boy thinks a girl is pretty, he says she's hot? Well, if he thinks she isn't pretty, does he say she's cold?"
Good question. Meanwhile, one of the little presents that Santa put in 4-yo's stocking was a packet of panties (her older brothers will never understand how panties and socks could possibly count as presents, for heaven's sake, but luckily Santa understands girls as well as he understands boys). Husband picked up the packet and said "oh, low rise panties. At first glance I thought it said low risk panties." Bridget Jones, you have so much to answer for.
Then there was a totally bizarre moment at the lunch table. We were enjoying smoked salmon, and encouraging the kids to try it. 4-yo asked the question "Is Gran smoked?" Hm. You're always told to answer kids honestly, so I replied "No. Um. No. Gran isn't smoked." That seemed an honest response.
It was only after long pondering that I worked out the background to the question. A couple of weeks before Christmas, 11-yo's class had been discussing the evils of smoking. I had been telling him how in his grandparents' generation, many people smoked, because they didn't know how bad it was for you. His grandparents had done so, but had given up when the ill effects became known.
Smoked salmon. Grandparents who smoked. Isn't the world a complicated place for a 4 year old?
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Jingle Bells
If you are from my era, you probably sang this as a child:
Jingle Bells, Batman smells
Robin's flown away
The Batmobile has lost its wheel
And landed in the hay.
Yes? Good. I'd like to know I wasn't the only one. Did you, too, share a frisson of naughty delight when you sang it? Not only were you singing the wrong words, which made it already pretty naughty, but that line "Batman smells" - wasn't that just the rudest thing ever?
Times move on, but it is good to know that childhood pleasures remain if not the same, than at least similar. There are new versions of Jingle Bells being sung around the globe. I thought you'd be interested to hear what eight year olds are singing in this neck of the woods. It goes like this:
Dashing through the snow
In a hybrid SUV
O'er the hills we go
Crashing into trees.
Bells are all destroyed
Making spirits fall,
All my presents have turned into
A flaming fireball.
There aren't any extreme rudenesses like "Batman smells", but even so, there's a healthy level of violence and destruction.
I love that eight year olds are singing about hybrid SUVs. Marvellous.
Postscript:
Oh. I've just spoiled my own post. I ran the lyrics past 8-yo. "Hypered", he said. "Hypered, not hybrid. What's hybrid mean, anyway?".
.
Jingle Bells, Batman smells
Robin's flown away
The Batmobile has lost its wheel
And landed in the hay.
Yes? Good. I'd like to know I wasn't the only one. Did you, too, share a frisson of naughty delight when you sang it? Not only were you singing the wrong words, which made it already pretty naughty, but that line "Batman smells" - wasn't that just the rudest thing ever?
Times move on, but it is good to know that childhood pleasures remain if not the same, than at least similar. There are new versions of Jingle Bells being sung around the globe. I thought you'd be interested to hear what eight year olds are singing in this neck of the woods. It goes like this:
Dashing through the snow
In a hybrid SUV
O'er the hills we go
Crashing into trees.
Bells are all destroyed
Making spirits fall,
All my presents have turned into
A flaming fireball.
There aren't any extreme rudenesses like "Batman smells", but even so, there's a healthy level of violence and destruction.
I love that eight year olds are singing about hybrid SUVs. Marvellous.
Postscript:
Oh. I've just spoiled my own post. I ran the lyrics past 8-yo. "Hypered", he said. "Hypered, not hybrid. What's hybrid mean, anyway?".
.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Christmas carols
My two younger kids are singing in church on Sunday, along with all the rest of their Sunday school. They’re doing Away in a Manger, and Silent Night.
Away in a Manger is to a different tune to the one I know. How can that be? Shurely shome mistake. How can you have Away in a Manger, not to the Away in a Manger tune? Actually, I’m rather glad, since the usual tune makes me cry. You know how it is. You go and see your child in some preschool or school event, and you put a tissue in your pocket but you’re absolutely determined not to use it. You’re doing really well, and it’s almost over, and then - oh they’re so clever these teachers – right at the end, a child steps forward and lisps “Now we’re all going to thing Away in a Manger, the firtht time on our own, and then pleathe join uth when we thing it a thecond time”, and the familiar music starts. You’re sitting there, thinking “This is SUCH a cliché. I’m so NOT going to get emotional just because it’s Away in a Manger, and my little darling is dressed as a shepherd/angel/lamb. It’s just Christmas, for heaven’s sake, and I’m NOT going to succumb to the cheesiest old favourite in the book. Absolutely NOT.” It rather depends how slowly they sing it, and how many verses they have learned, as to whether you can keep these stern thoughts going for long enough, or whether the tissue has to emerge from the pocket.
What is it with Away in a Manger? I’m wondering if mothers put it on quickly when their baby daughters start to cry, so that the association becomes ingrained Pavlov-style at an infant age, and then somehow lies dormant till motherhood. I didn’t know about this, so I didn’t do it for my daughter. She’ll have an easier time at her children’s nativity plays.
Silent Night. That’s a nice one (apart from the rather screechy way you have to slide up the scale on “pee-eeace” in the last line). I was getting 8-yo to sing it to me, to make sure he knew the words, and half way through, he stopped and said “What is an infantso?” You know that bit: Holy infantso, tender and mild. I told him it was a kind of reindeer (I didn’t really).
It reminded me of one of my own childhood Christmas carol puzzles. There was this really confusing bit in “While shepherds watched” which said Thus spake the sheriff, and forthwith appeared a shining throng. I knew it couldn’t be a wild west type of sheriff, in Bethlehem. In any case, men can’t be angels. Girls are angels, as eny ful no. I remember being confused, but I can't remember how I resolved the issue. I probably concluded the sheriff was the angel with the bright golden star.
Ah, innocent times. These days, kids are probably more confused by why forthwith a shining thong would appear.
Do you have any childhood festive misunderstandings you’d like to share?
.
Away in a Manger is to a different tune to the one I know. How can that be? Shurely shome mistake. How can you have Away in a Manger, not to the Away in a Manger tune? Actually, I’m rather glad, since the usual tune makes me cry. You know how it is. You go and see your child in some preschool or school event, and you put a tissue in your pocket but you’re absolutely determined not to use it. You’re doing really well, and it’s almost over, and then - oh they’re so clever these teachers – right at the end, a child steps forward and lisps “Now we’re all going to thing Away in a Manger, the firtht time on our own, and then pleathe join uth when we thing it a thecond time”, and the familiar music starts. You’re sitting there, thinking “This is SUCH a cliché. I’m so NOT going to get emotional just because it’s Away in a Manger, and my little darling is dressed as a shepherd/angel/lamb. It’s just Christmas, for heaven’s sake, and I’m NOT going to succumb to the cheesiest old favourite in the book. Absolutely NOT.” It rather depends how slowly they sing it, and how many verses they have learned, as to whether you can keep these stern thoughts going for long enough, or whether the tissue has to emerge from the pocket.
What is it with Away in a Manger? I’m wondering if mothers put it on quickly when their baby daughters start to cry, so that the association becomes ingrained Pavlov-style at an infant age, and then somehow lies dormant till motherhood. I didn’t know about this, so I didn’t do it for my daughter. She’ll have an easier time at her children’s nativity plays.
Silent Night. That’s a nice one (apart from the rather screechy way you have to slide up the scale on “pee-eeace” in the last line). I was getting 8-yo to sing it to me, to make sure he knew the words, and half way through, he stopped and said “What is an infantso?” You know that bit: Holy infantso, tender and mild. I told him it was a kind of reindeer (I didn’t really).
It reminded me of one of my own childhood Christmas carol puzzles. There was this really confusing bit in “While shepherds watched” which said Thus spake the sheriff, and forthwith appeared a shining throng. I knew it couldn’t be a wild west type of sheriff, in Bethlehem. In any case, men can’t be angels. Girls are angels, as eny ful no. I remember being confused, but I can't remember how I resolved the issue. I probably concluded the sheriff was the angel with the bright golden star.
Ah, innocent times. These days, kids are probably more confused by why forthwith a shining thong would appear.
Do you have any childhood festive misunderstandings you’d like to share?
.
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