Christmas albums are, for the most part, one-offs, and one particular effect of this is that they rarely ever get truly tight.
Every Christmas album is, in a way, a concept album.
But, conversely, we rarely see any of them that venture far beyond the connotations offered by Christmas itself.
One of the most wonderful things about listening to the very earliest attempts at Christmas albums is to see a genre take form. Take radio personality Arthur Godfrey.
There’s a fascinating parallel between how traditional Tin Pan Alley pop, on the one hand, and prog rock, on the other, is treated by mainstream music journalism.
You’d hardly expect a hip, critically lauded psychedelic rock band of the late sixties to release a Christmas album.
Perhaps the most unique feature of the rock‘n’roll revolution in the mid-fifties is its cross-market singularity.
One of the unexpected sorrows of dealing with a music genre that, let’s face it, had its absolute heyday more than 50 years ago, is to frequently have to see its legendary cr
It is the eternal fate of a vocal album, for better or for worse, that it will be judged mainly by the quality of its vocals.
The release is on a recently-launched budget label, whose lack of any clear direction meant that it would soon be wound up.
You can tell by the cover that Christmas by The Singers Unlimited is no ordinary Christmas album.