Cut my metaphorical heart open, and you’ll find many things: Wendy,
chocolate, computers, bacchanalia, bare-bum spankings on the fire
esca…okay, scratch that one. But among those things near and dear to
me are the wayward children of the wayward African child known as the
blues scale: jazz, pop and rock. It’s quite fitting that one of the
numbers that I played with the band at my wedding was Old Time Rock and Roll.
Unfortunately, there hasn’t been a good Christmas rock song in a long
time. Most Christmas rock is terrible, the worst being Paul McCartney’s
a number he practically “phoned in” — most of the musicianship in the
song is courtesy of the synth and an overused digital delay effect (the
echo). It’s further proof that Lennon and McCartney are rather like two
chemicals that potent when mixed together, but rather harmless on their
own. If Purgatory exists, there’s a special room for Sir Paul where The
Unicorns (whom I wrote about in this entry), high on crystal meth, play the song non-stop for seven
lifetimes.
Good Christmas rock songs do exist — I’m rather fond of SR-71’s cover of Billy Squier’s Christmas is a Time to Say I Love You (it’s on this album), and despite my general avoidance of granola-folk, I enjoy Dar Williams’ The Christians and the Pagans, and it’s one of Wendy’s favourites (when a Jewish girl likes a Christmas song, it’s got to be good). Here’s an MP3 of Dar perfoming this number live in October 2005 at Santa Cruz, California’s hippie Mecca [2.1MB, MP3]. I got this courtesy of the blog Lookit, so thanks, Lookit! (Here’s the blog entry from which it comes.)
Here are the lyrics, for your enjoyment:
Amber called her uncle, said “We’re up here for the holiday,
Jane and I were having Solstice, now we need a place to stay.”
And her Christ-loving uncle watched his wife hang Mary on a tree,
He watched his son hang candy canes all made with Red Dye Number 3.
He told his niece, “It’s Christmas Eve, I know our life is not your style,”
She said, “Christmas is like Solstice, and we miss you, and its been awhile,”
So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
And just before the meal was served, hands were held and prayers were said,
Sending hope for peace on earth to all their gods and goddesses.
The food was great, the tree plugged in, the meal had gone without a hitch,
‘Til Timmy turned to Amber and said, “Is it true that you’re a witch?”
His mom jumped up and said, “The pies are burning,” and she hit the kitchen,
And it was Jane who spoke, she said, “It’s true, your cousin’s not a Christian,”
“But we love trees, we love the snow, the friends we have, the world we share,
And you find magic from your God, and we find magic everywhere.”
So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
And where does magic come from? I think magic’s in the learning,
‘Cause now when Christians sit with Pagans only pumpkin pies are burning.
When Amber tried to do the dishes, her aunt said, “Really, no, don’t bother.”
Amber’s uncle saw how Amber looked like Tim and like her father.
He thought about his brother, how they hadn’t spoken in a year,
He thought he’d call him up and say, “It’s Christmas and your daughter’s here.”
He thought of fathers, sons and brothers, saw his own son tug his sleeve, saying,
“Can I be a Pagan?” Dad said, “We’ll discuss it when they leave.”
So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
Lighting trees in darkness, learning new ways from the old, and
Making sense of history and drawing warmth out of the cold.
