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.
When James Brown opens his A Soulful Christmas album with the phrase “Santa Claus, Go Straight to the Ghetto”, it might come off as a novelty, as a joke, but he is dead
Peter Schreier, tenor extraordinaire and one of the greatest singing interpreters of Bach of the 20th century, passed away on Christmas day last year. A date.