Angels we have heard on 'high'

With less than a month to go before the 25th, Gus' albums are being fully deployed in support of Operation make-exams-less-miserable. Here are a few more picks from the collection that have been making the rounds lately:



Kenny and Dolly need no introduction, but I can't resist sharing with dear readers the background of my affiliation with this album. It's a miracle my copy will still play after the number of times gin-soaked, pizza stained hands basically tossed it onto my old flying-saucer record player in moments of collective revelry. Kenny and Dolly were often the seasonal serenaders of choice at the Forsey Manor Homestead. [As an aside, allow me this exclamation of nostalgia: Oh! Forsey Manor: that undergraduate haven of poverty that somehow managed to exude holiday cheer, defying consumerist trappings and yet screaming Christmas thanks to pine boughs liberated from Eastern Ontario roadside woodlots, grocery store trees, packages from dee dee and Granny, perilously-strung balcony lights, and many other home-made decorative hamhockery that was the work of a crew heavy on spirit and low on cash.]

I've always marveled at the religiosity of many of the songs on this album- I guess Kenny and Dolly were playing to a constituency that was either not concerned with politically correct secular pop rules, or not yet schooled in those sorts of creative limitations. Then again, country music on the airwaves today is still pretty churchy.



This record was a random flea market purchase some time this summer that proved to be a pleasant surprise upon its inaugural listen. It's definitely not material for the faint of advent heart: mostly sacred, mostly about Christ and Mary. 'Balulalow' has been a personal favourite of mine since singing an arrangement by Mark Sirett years ago in choir. It is hauntingly exquisite. The structure of the word 'balulalow,' when sung by soaring voices, really invites you to picture a stable in the darkness and a saviour's birth perhaps less triumphant than in revised accounts which tell more glorious tales of the manger scene.



Early memories of this most cherished of albums include bouncing around to a cassette version as tot, mesmerized by the familiar voices that seemed to be coming from directly inside the mammoth old wood speakers in our living room. That cassette was lost and the music remained a mere memory until Christmas of 2003, when Joe made me a disc that included some Muppet carols and warmed my heart. A vinyl copy came my way the following year. The CD version was also the soundtrack to a campaign car I captained while working in the first portion of the federal election of 2005/2006: a welcome salve in between brutal sessions of door-knocking and sign-hammering.

In the realm of more modern media, I've discovered some great holiday tunes on NPR's webstream. This concert was particularly arresting- I recommend it to anyone even remotely fond of carols and celtic tunes.