Yesterday one of our local radio stations started its solid 24-hour broadcasts of Christmas music. This annual phenomenon begins with the abject optimism that, indeed, winter itself brings: Faith that it won't be as long, cold, snowy and unendureable as last year. But, given the number of free-form, slightly tuneless jazz saxophone solos I've heard peppering out of the radio speakers, this Christmas Music Season sounds like it's going to be just as lousy as last year.
I just don't understand it -- why do arrangers feel that the answer to every remake of every Christmas carol ever written needs a saxophone solo? And I mean every song. I swear I heard a sax solo during a rendition of "Silent Night" last year. I'd like to hear a solo on vies, the chimes, garbage can lids, anything, ANYTHING other than a saxophone. Drum up some originality, please.
And while I'm on the subject, I plan to use this blog this year to record my most innermost feelings (which will be dark and vile, not pretty) when I hear any of the following songs on the radio:
1) The Madonna version (or, frankly, ANY version) of "Santa Baby."
2) "The Christmas Shoes," which supplies a years' worth of treacle with every playing.
3) "Hey Sanna." I cannot legally type the true name of the song, "Hey Santa," because the singers do not sing "Hey Santa," but insist on saying "Sanna." I have no idea who or what Sanna might be, but I DO NOT wish to say "Hey" to him.
4) "Favorite Things." Whenever I hear this song commmandeered as a Christmas song, it makes me wish the Nazis had gotten the Von Trapps before they scuttled over the border to Switzerland.
(And, in case you're wondering, the album featured on this page is not a joke. It is available here, heaven help us.)
UPDATE: Had I extended my 2:30 constitutional for just another 10 seconds, I would have missed the aforementioned Madonna song. Damn my luck.
I just don't understand it -- why do arrangers feel that the answer to every remake of every Christmas carol ever written needs a saxophone solo? And I mean every song. I swear I heard a sax solo during a rendition of "Silent Night" last year. I'd like to hear a solo on vies, the chimes, garbage can lids, anything, ANYTHING other than a saxophone. Drum up some originality, please.
And while I'm on the subject, I plan to use this blog this year to record my most innermost feelings (which will be dark and vile, not pretty) when I hear any of the following songs on the radio:
1) The Madonna version (or, frankly, ANY version) of "Santa Baby."
2) "The Christmas Shoes," which supplies a years' worth of treacle with every playing.
3) "Hey Sanna." I cannot legally type the true name of the song, "Hey Santa," because the singers do not sing "Hey Santa," but insist on saying "Sanna." I have no idea who or what Sanna might be, but I DO NOT wish to say "Hey" to him.
4) "Favorite Things." Whenever I hear this song commmandeered as a Christmas song, it makes me wish the Nazis had gotten the Von Trapps before they scuttled over the border to Switzerland.
(And, in case you're wondering, the album featured on this page is not a joke. It is available here, heaven help us.)
UPDATE: Had I extended my 2:30 constitutional for just another 10 seconds, I would have missed the aforementioned Madonna song. Damn my luck.
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