The blog for the cult Manhattan cable-access TV show that offers viewers the best in "everything from high art to low trash... and back again!" Find links to rare footage, original reviews, and reflections on pop culture and arthouse cinema.
America is at a crossroads. (Then again,
America's been at the same crossroads since the Fifties.) Terrorist
attacks are dreaded in every major city on the planet. The American
political process is now the purview of people saying the craziest
shit imaginable – and people cheer them for doing so. Black
Americans are fatally shot by the cops for being “suspicious” (or
whatever pretext is created). American culture is cookie-cutter to
the max, with comic book movies being the biggest hits at the box
office, and the only really quality TV series being made for pay
channels. Pop music ate itself long ago, and literature of any kind
is now subject in institutions of higher learning to “trigger
warnings,” telling the young folk that they may encounter
objectionable words or concept that might offend them.
So what can we do in this time of
strife, discord, and general miserable-ness? (See below for the next
holiday's blast of seasonal annoyance.) We can laugh at a former TV
spy being needled by volunteer clowns as he reads the U.S.
constitution (and misses a line in the process). I suspect there will be no sequel to the recent U.N.C.L.E. "reboot."
Repeated viewings make this clip even more patriotic. (For me, the clown wiggling his nose is only the surface level -- the guy stroking his chin is the real deal.)
On a more somber, mawkish note, I thank
you folks for reading this blog, watching the Funhouse TV show, and
for being so generous in your praise for this work.
The Funhouse TV show will be undergoing
a MASSIVE change in the next month. Our access organization is
converting from the tape format that has been working *splendidly*
for the last few years to only accepting digital files that may or
may not play properly on-air (the last formats that were used by the org
both had several different Playback troubles, so I'm assuming the
same will occur with this conversion to digital broadcasting). The recent for the conversion? Because, well... things have to move on, and things just have to get screwed up again (they're been working too well for years now!).
I
am doing my best – and spending an *inordinate* sum of money I
don't have – to learn the new specs and will be giving in the best
possible files I can create with the best possible technology. If the
Funhouse show starts getting wonky in its on-air, it isn't for lack
of hard work from myself, my camera folk, and my tech-guru (the
master cineaste Paul G.).
So I'll close out with another
thank-you to youse and yours for checking this stuff out. I enjoy
doing it, and your positive feedback when it arrives makes it all
worthwhile.
Halloween is now over, and I'm not the only one who laments
its end and the onset of the Yuletide season. The latter is represented by a
non-stop barrage of television ads, promotions in e-mail, picturesque store
displays, and garish red and green products that bear the likenesses of Santa,
Jesus, Rudolph, the Three Wise Men, Frosty, or the Virgin Mary.
And the music. Oh god, the music. Some of it is sublime,
some amusing, but the vast majority of it is pure mulch. I've written about
this before on this blog but the most irritating part of the whole Xmas
music debacle is that the “selling season” is the only time older musical
artists are played on the radio, on store loudspeakers, and all over the
streets of the city — but you're only going to hear a handful of songs that fit
the season and provoke either grimaces or sad memories. That's the true key to
the marketing of any holiday, making the public feel an obligation to purchase
or making 'em feel lonely and wretched.
And all this after Halloween, the most enjoyable of all
holidays, because it is so irresponsible and lacking in obligation. Xmas is fun
for kids and a burden for adults (unless they're parents, who now exist
*through* the progeny). Halloween, on the other hand, is for extroverts and
introverts, exhibitionists and voyeurs, those who are religious (and thus
welcome the lapse into bad behavior) and those who know religion is the biggest
marketing ploy of all.
The marketing push for Xmas now begins right after Halloween
(and in some stores slightly before it). It used to be that Thanksgiving was
the portal into Xmas — why else would Santa be shamelessly plugging Macy's at
the tail-end of their wondrously overblown annual parade/store promotion? The
“door busters”/Black Friday mindset is now a deeply entrenched part of the
holiday. It is supplemented by department stores and other emporia du crap
staying open 24/7 on the week before Xmas — something that never happened when
America was prosperous but somehow became a habit right after the financial crash
of 2008.
But even if you're able to set aside the horrifying Xmas
marketing and the sad memories that are part and parcel of the Yuletide season
(and the nearly-as-oppressive New Year’s Eve holiday that follows), you're left
with that one major factor: the music. The mass media embraces, for a short
time only, a finite amount of old culture — great dead recording artists,
classic lit (of the Dickens variety), and a small handful of old movies and
Xmas episodes of series from the pre-Norman Lear/pre-Three's
Company days.
Halloween, on the other hand, spotlights rockers who've
played with horror elements in their music or performance. The range of films
is anything at all that could be frightening or scary, from murder mysteries
and psychological thrillers to monster flicks and horror movies. There's no
dictated “playlist” and there seems to be a broader outlook on what the holiday
can embrace in terms of entertainment.
Both Xmas and Halloween can inspire memories. But would you
rather be forced to recall heart-tugging memories of relatives who have died,
lovers who have left, and kids who have grown up – or that ridiculous time you
wore some silly-ass costume and had a ball? (or just stayed home and watched
your all-time favorite horror/monster movies)
When it comes down to it, I choose joy over sorrow — and
marketing. Mark me down as being in the Halloween camp. But since we're now
firmly in Xmas territory (although the fact that the holiday begins so fucking
early is now a running gag on both sides of the Atlantic), I wanted to
remind ya what Xmas is really all about, by sharing the all-time best Yuletide misery tunes.
I've classified them into little groups, but I'm sure I
still missed some gems (feel free to comment and add your own personal fave if
I missed it). At the end of the piece, I thank those of my Facebook friends who
reminded me of some prime Xmas misery or intro'd me to things I'd never heard
before.
Let it be known that I do think “Have Yourself a Merry
Little Xmas” is indeed a grade-A primo wrist-slashing piece of Yuletide sorrow
(“… if the fates allow…” is the masterstroke). “Blue Xmas,” “I'll Be Home for
Xmas,” “The Christmas Blues,” and “Please Come Home for Xmas” are equally
gloomy and grim for the holiday. However, you know those — it would be like
including the over-played (and barely tolerable) “Grandma Got Run Over by a
Raindeer” to illustrate kooky Xmas tunes. I wanted to reach for the 100-proof
Xmas misery ditties.
There are also songs that are just so treacly sentimental that
they make YOU, the listener, miserable. There are dozens and dozens of these,
but a particularly creepy one is “Shake Me I Rattle (Squeeze Me I Cry),” sung
from the point of a “dolly” waiting to be bought by a sad, poor little girl
(thanks to Roy Edroso for this misery “starter” kit). Here the Lennon Sisters
act it out on — where else? — The Lawrence Welk Show.
The biggest subgroup of holiday-unhappiness ditties target
that gift-giver emeritus, he of the beard, stomach, and creepy-ass laugh. Some
of the tunes are lyrically miserable, but they are just too damned upbeat —
thus I’m not including “Santa Bring My Baby Back to Me” and Dwight Yoakam’s
“Santa Can't Stay” on this list. I will, however, start off with one of the
truly weirdest tunes that appeared in the Dr. Demento universe several decades
ago, the tune for fucked-up kids that hope to find parts of St. Nick underneath
their beds:
One of the more peculiar depressing tunes about Santa is
“The Little Boy that Santa Claus Forgot” by Nat King Cole. In this case Santa
was a dick to a small child (because “he hasn’t got a daddy” — single moms
raise disappointed children!).
The songwriter’s imagination goes to strange places when
pondering the toy-making factory of St. Nick. The misery-epic “Death of an Elf”
by Reverend Glen Armstrong is astoundingly grim:
And then children like the kid in the Nat Cole song grow up
and take their revenge on Santa. There’s the wonderfully titled “Millie Pulled a Gun on Santa” by De La Soul. This is one of my all-time favorites,
though: Ray Davies vision of a street corner Santa being attacked by angry poor
kids. (“Give my daddy a job because he needs one/he’s got lots of mouths to
feed/And if you’ve got one I’ll have a machine gun/ so I can scare all the kids
on the street…”):
The next one probably belongs with the unhappy family Xmas
tunes, but its raw r&B sound makes it perfect for the
Santa-is-a-mean-fuck-up subgenre, “Santa Came Home Drunk” by Clyde Lasley and
the Cadillac Baby Specials:
The sorely missed Tiny Tim came up with the single most
depressing image of Santa in his absolute masterpiece “Santa Claus Has Got the
AIDS.”(“He won’t be yelling out ‘Ho-ho-ho-ho’/But he’ll be screaming out ‘No!
No! No! No!’…”) It’s a disturbing song, a bizarre one, an endlessly funny one
(most likely because you can’t figure out if Tiny is kidding — I don’t think he
was), and perhaps the ultimate expression of our twisted relationship with the
man who comes down people’s chimneys and wolfs up their cookies. Tiny, we miss
you so…
The nexus of the Xmas holiday (at least they keep telling
us) is the family unit. The bulk of the miserable Xmas songs have to do with
the lack of family and loneliness on the holiday, but there’s just as much
misery that can be doled out by one’s relatives.
Robert Earl Keen’s “Merry Christmas from the Family”
is the best dysfunctional-family-at-Xmas song ever, but it’s still too chipper
a vision: the sweet, fucked-up family that Keen describes is us, and they’re
charmingly tacky. (The song gets major credits for being the only Xmas song I
know of to mention tampons.)
Commander Cody’s “Santa's Drinking Up Our Xmas” is more in
line with the family misery that gets communicated in song. Consider it the
first great country ode to holiday pain in this list (more to come!):
And because it has the single most spiteful title in the
whole canon of Xmas music, I have to include Sufjan Stevens’ “Did I Make You
Cry on Christmas Day? (well, you deserved it!).” Stevens came up with the words
of a bickerer who is the exact opposite of the guy in the Ramones song “Merry
Christmas (I don’t want to fight tonight).” His character is happy he’s made
his partner miserable for the holidays:
The blues are the ultimate expression of sadness in song,
and so there needs to be one unhappy Xmas blues tune on this list. Thus,
Victoria Spivey tells us how low-down miserable Xmas can get in the “Christmas Morning Blues”:
Blues masters have other things to be unhappy about, but
country-song writers have a laser-focus on Xmas misery. There are songs in which people try to ignore the whole thing — as with Dolly Parton and company singing “Hard Candy Christmas” in The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas (a
stunningly poorly-made movie musical).
Although it isn’t the single saddest Xmas-sucks country
tune, the award for best title has got to go to “Please Daddy (Don't get drunk
this Christmas).” Here the ever-pure John Denver warbles this timeless tale:
The “coal miner’s daughter” gave us one of the most
perplexing sad-ass country tunes, “Christmas Without Daddy.” I’ve listened to
this sucker more than once trying to figure out where daddy went — did he leave
Mom and the kiddies? Is he in prison? The military? Is he dead? (She says he’s
“so far away” and the son is writing him a letter, but then again, kids have
been known to write to dead folk.) The songwriter supplies no answer, but it’s
still a downer of a tune:
Ernest Tubb altered his big hit “I’m Walkin’ the Floor Over
You” for the holidays as “I'll Be Walking the Floor This Christmas.” The best line? He’ll be “decoratin’ the tree with tears…”:
Arguably the all-time king of sad country songs, George
Jones gave us “Lonely Christmas Call.” It’s a letter from a sad husband and
dad, asking his departed ex to come back for the holiday. (“Why not show
consideration/to the ones whose heart you’re breaking?/Give them your gift of
love/this Christmas day…”)
The above are all great tunes, but the gut-punch best is
definitely Merle Haggard’s “If We Make It Through December.” It’s beautifully
written, is about the eternal subject of lack of money, and isn’t just about
the holiday. The narrator has been laid off and hopes that, if the family can
survive the month of December (“the coldest time of winter”), they can move to
a warmer climate where he can get a new job. It’s so non-sentimental and
clear-minded in its point of view it’s emotionally wrenching:
A really great example of how Xmas music has been depressing
since the get-go is the “Coventry Carol.” Intended to commemorate the order
from King Herod to kill all the male children under the age of two in Bethlem,
it’s a gorgeous-sounding carol that tells of the needless, horrid slaughter of
innocent children. (Suddenly your losing your lover during the holidays doesn’t
sound so bad, eh?) Here’s a beautiful version by Allison Moyet:
And continuing the massacre theme (I rarely get to write
that phrase), next up is a discussion of Xmas songs revolving around the
Vietnam War. Proving that the ridiculous phrase “EVERYTHING is on the Internet,
Granddad!!!” is indeed ridiculous, I was unable to find a posting of one of my
personal Nam-era faves that references how bombing in wars is sometimes stopped
on Xmas Day (and then picked up as soon as the calendar changes).
The song is
“The Rest of The Year” written by David Buskin (of Buskin and Batteau) and
recorded most prominently by Mary Travers. This song was on YouTube, but was
taken down, so I mention here, because it is both beautiful and sad.
But onto a record you can hear online: “Christmas in
Vietnam” by Johnny and Jon, surprisingly hails from relatively “early” in the
war (1966) — although we all know the Vietnam quagmire was being ramped up
during JFK’s presidency and during LBJ’s first years. The song is a fascinating “news story” that
contains the bluesy line “I’m in a foxhole, baby!”
Now the final, most sublime Xmas-misery songs. And yet *another* note about a song that is
NOT online, “My Most Miserable Xmas Blues” by Charles Brown (which accuses the
listener, the singer’s lover, of making this Christmas “the most miserable
Christmas” of his whole life — Brown’s pronunciation of it as “mis’able” makes
it even better). I love the song to pieces, but can’t present it here, because
no one has uploaded it to YouTube.
Again, I will try to dispense with songs that have
depressing lyrics but are just too upbeat melody-wise (a great example is
“Christmas Will Just Be Another Day” by Brenda Lee). What are we left with?
Sheer unmitigated seasonal misery, like Aimee Mann's “I Was Thinking I Could
Clean Up for Christmas”:
Some early Seventies soul, the Emotions with “What Do the
Lonely Do at Christmas?” The jingle bells are a ridiculous touch that play
against the whole arrangement, but I guess the producer felt it “lightened” the
depressing lyric.
Sometimes, during the year, when it's decidedly not Xmas, I
begin to sing the next number to myself. Wall of Voodoo's amazing story song,
“Shouldn't Have Given Him a Gun for Christmas.” (“He put two slugs in the
neighbor’s door/and kicked apart the manger scene/The plastic baby Jesus he
blew to smithereens/I can’t think of all the nine-year-olds who won’t be seein’
ten/Or how he went-a caroling to the doors of now-dead men!”)
The Sensational Alex Harvey Band gave us the lovely rocker
(yes, I'll include upbeat tunes when they're nasty rock) “There's No Light on the Christmas Tree,” which concerns a killer being executed on Xmas Eve.
There are indeed some sublime Xmas misery ditties about the Big House, including
“Christmas in Jail,” the 1956 rocker that boasts beautifully deadpan delivery
of the lyrics by the lead singer:
The always sublime John Prine went a similar route with his
catchy “Christmas in Prison”:
Now, we come to the home stretch: the crème de la crème of
sad Xmas songs. Tom Waits has written some of the most memorably depressing
songs of the past few decades — to the extent that he has been impersonated for a novelty tune called “Christmas Sucks.” Tom's own Yuletide masterwork is
the memorably downbeat “Christmas Card From a Hooker in Minneapolis.” It gets
to the essence of the holiday in a few short minutes. A smiling, happy facade
concealing all kinds of sad truths.
The vision of owning a used car lot is the grace note. (“I'd
just drive me a different car every day/depending on how I feel...”)
A good part of the strength of garage rock was its raucous,
unpolished sound in an era when the Beatles and Beach Boys were releasing
gorgeously crafted pop-rock “teenage symphonies" — thus the main reason the
notion of Little Steven's Underground Garage makes so little sense, since he
decided the perfectly polished, million-selling hits belong with the raucous items by more obscure acts,
just because he says so.
There was also the refreshingly short duration of the songs.
Here the Sonics from Tacoma, Wash., offer up their feelings about Xmas in less
than two minutes. Brevity is indeed the soul of Xmas-misery wit.
And because punk was built on the shambles left by garage
rock, we have Fear's exceedingly succinct summation of the situation:
It's not like the notion that Xmas is a dreadful drag is
anything new. This brilliant piece (also very concise) from 1962 skewers the
holiday beautifully. Vocalist Bob Dorough wrote the lyrics (“It's a time when
the greedy give a dime to the needy/Blue Christmas, all the paper, tinsel and
the folderal/Blue Xmas, people trading gifts that matter not at all/What I
call/folderal/Bitter gall... folderal”). He composed the melody with some guy
named Davis.
Hard to beat the conclusion of Dorough's lyrics (“Merry
Christmas/I hope yours is a bright one, but for me, it bleeds...”). Leave it to
the beautifully blended voices of the Everly Brothers to supply the fell blow
that demolishes the holiday, “Christmas Eve Can Kill You.” (“And Christmas Eve
can kill you/When you're trying to hitch a ride to anywhere/The icy air I'm
breathing's all that keeps me on my feet/I feel like I've been walking all my
life...”)
And because I have to leave you with one dram of hopefulness
after this death-orgy of Xmas-music (which is actually just more *honest* than
the music you normally hear; Andy Williams' “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year” is a horrific
but tuneful deceit from any angle), I turn to the much-loved “Fairytale of New
York.”
The strength of the song is its mixture of beauty and
ugliness (something that those from Eire are masters at). The fact that the
music is beautifully arranged, gorgeously sung (ah, Kristy...), and so
wonderfully evocative of dreams that are promised and the reality that is
delivered makes it perhaps the perfect urban Xmas song.
I can think of no better place to close out than with a rollicking,
boisterous, emotional Xmas song that contains the charmingly romanticlyric, “You scumbag, you
maggot, you cheap lousy faggot/Happy Christmas your arse/I pray God it's our
last.” What more can you add?
Thanks to these Facebook pallies for reminding me
of, and in some cases introducing me to, some of the songs found above: Doug
Brod, Rich Brown, Nick Bruel, Zach Crowell, Roy Edroso, Ed Edward, M. Faust,
Tony Gordon, Greg Gutbezahl, Judy Hennessey, James Marshall, Arnold Neimanis,
Garo Nigoghossian, Suzu Renaud, and Louis Sessa.