A Christmas Thought From Me To You
Happy Christmas to you all, to those who celebrate, and to those who don't, enjoy your Tuesday, heathens!
Now then, with that out of the way, it's time to tackle one particular Christmas evil head-on, in the only way I know how: to write about it in a bitter fashion.
When the Beatles broke up, rock critics everywhere were quick to pounce on Paul McCartney's albums and singles, rather unfairly, in my opinion (don't worry, I'll get to how this all ties into Christmas eventually). For example, I have read more than one review of Paul's album Ram from the time period that have made me wonder if the reviewer and I are listening to the same album. I believe Rolling Stone magazine originally gave it something like no stars. No stars to an album that includes "Dear Boy," "Ram On," "Heart Of The Country," "Monkberry Moon Delight," "Too Many People," "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey," and "Backseat Of My Car," one of Paul's very best songs, and that includes his tenure with the Beatles. It is of my opinion that Rolling Stone was on crack when they reviewed the album. But that's beside the point now, as time has looked back upon Paul's career with much more warmth than I'm sure he anticipated after the critical drubbings that met his first few solo albums and Wings efforts. For those of you who have never dared delve into McCartney's solo/Wings years, I can assure you that they're well worth sifting through. Every album has at least one or two songs due for rediscovery and praise, even such maligned efforts as 1971's Wings Wild Life or 1984's Give My Regards To Broad St. In recent years, McCartney has even managed a sustained artistic comeback, with his latest album, Memory Almost Full, being chock full of genuinely terrific compositions.
I like Paul. How can I not? How can I feel anything other than love and gratitude for a man who brought so many wonderful moments of music into my life and the lives of countless others? What would give me the right to say anything negative at all about him? To do so would seem petty and churlish.
Well, except, there is that one thing. That one undeniable black hole of suck, from which nothing good musically can escape. I'm talking of Paul's Christmas song, "Wonderful Christmastime."
Those of you who know the song most likely feel the same way I do: whenever someone brings it up, you find it impossible to hold your tongue. "I HATE that song!" "That is one of the worst things ever foisted upon humanity at any given point in the history of mankind." "When I hear this song, I understand how people snap during the holiday season."
Those of you who have never heard it before, I cannot impress upon you just how godawful a song it is. Imagine the most irritating noise you've ever heard, then have it play on a loop for 4 minutes. Then, over the irritating noise, sing "simply having a wonderful Christmastime" over and over and over and over again. Then gouge your eardrums out with a waterpik. Have yourself a good cry. Then get on with your life.
I know that Paul was and probably still is a fan of the marijuana leaf. But, seriously, how effing stoned do you really need to be to not notice how insufferable this song is? It is the only song I can think of that has ever made me leave a store due to its awfulness. "Wonderful Christmastime" is the Star Wars Holiday Special of Christmas music. And that's really all I have to say about that. Thank you, God bless, and have yourself a merry little Christmas.
Now then, with that out of the way, it's time to tackle one particular Christmas evil head-on, in the only way I know how: to write about it in a bitter fashion.
When the Beatles broke up, rock critics everywhere were quick to pounce on Paul McCartney's albums and singles, rather unfairly, in my opinion (don't worry, I'll get to how this all ties into Christmas eventually). For example, I have read more than one review of Paul's album Ram from the time period that have made me wonder if the reviewer and I are listening to the same album. I believe Rolling Stone magazine originally gave it something like no stars. No stars to an album that includes "Dear Boy," "Ram On," "Heart Of The Country," "Monkberry Moon Delight," "Too Many People," "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey," and "Backseat Of My Car," one of Paul's very best songs, and that includes his tenure with the Beatles. It is of my opinion that Rolling Stone was on crack when they reviewed the album. But that's beside the point now, as time has looked back upon Paul's career with much more warmth than I'm sure he anticipated after the critical drubbings that met his first few solo albums and Wings efforts. For those of you who have never dared delve into McCartney's solo/Wings years, I can assure you that they're well worth sifting through. Every album has at least one or two songs due for rediscovery and praise, even such maligned efforts as 1971's Wings Wild Life or 1984's Give My Regards To Broad St. In recent years, McCartney has even managed a sustained artistic comeback, with his latest album, Memory Almost Full, being chock full of genuinely terrific compositions.
I like Paul. How can I not? How can I feel anything other than love and gratitude for a man who brought so many wonderful moments of music into my life and the lives of countless others? What would give me the right to say anything negative at all about him? To do so would seem petty and churlish.
Well, except, there is that one thing. That one undeniable black hole of suck, from which nothing good musically can escape. I'm talking of Paul's Christmas song, "Wonderful Christmastime."
Those of you who know the song most likely feel the same way I do: whenever someone brings it up, you find it impossible to hold your tongue. "I HATE that song!" "That is one of the worst things ever foisted upon humanity at any given point in the history of mankind." "When I hear this song, I understand how people snap during the holiday season."
Those of you who have never heard it before, I cannot impress upon you just how godawful a song it is. Imagine the most irritating noise you've ever heard, then have it play on a loop for 4 minutes. Then, over the irritating noise, sing "simply having a wonderful Christmastime" over and over and over and over again. Then gouge your eardrums out with a waterpik. Have yourself a good cry. Then get on with your life.
I know that Paul was and probably still is a fan of the marijuana leaf. But, seriously, how effing stoned do you really need to be to not notice how insufferable this song is? It is the only song I can think of that has ever made me leave a store due to its awfulness. "Wonderful Christmastime" is the Star Wars Holiday Special of Christmas music. And that's really all I have to say about that. Thank you, God bless, and have yourself a merry little Christmas.