Before anything, I want to say that the only reason I know the following song is because we sang it in some preschool Christmas carol event years and years ago. I don't really remember anything else from preschool... except singing this song. And so the song has a certain connotation for me--one that does not involve a guy nearing his 70's attempting to combine polka and punk.
SONG #3:
Of course, my reaction... like everyone else's... when I heard that Bob Dylan was doing a Christmas album was an obviously enthusiastic "sign me up!"
Well... actually, most people were probably wondering what a Jewish guy was doing recording a Christmas album (answer: he converted to Christianity for three of his worst reviewed records of his career). Or maybe they were wondering what the hell the point was. Answer: who knows? He's Bob Dylan. He's earned the right to record any album he wants, whether it's a Christmas album or... I don't know, one for Arbor Day.
Unfortunately, I probably could not recommend the album to anyone--except if you have the same type of humor I do.
I've gotten into a couple of arguments about Bob Dylan's talents as a singer. I usually maintain that he's pretty great, and the other person complains about how nasally and gruff his voice is. Which always annoys me. Good voice ≠ good singer. And my arguments have been (or should have been) that he knows how to use his limited vocal skills in the best way possible, with his inflection wringing out meaning in every single word that he sings, to the point where it's impossible to imagine anyone singing his songs any better (best case in point: his sneer in "Like A Rolling Stone.")
...this album doesn't help me in this matter. Cause Bob Dylan tries to sing all these old standards as straight as possible--you know, going so far as to trying to hit the notes. Which doesn't work, because A) his voice was never all that great, and B) it sure ain't gotten any better as he's approaching 70.
...which I think is the point of the whole album, but I can't prove it in anyway.
I mean, if I were an aging rock legend, and my whole career had been pretty much defying expectations left and right, wouldn't I record a Christmas album while singing in a style that has never suited me ever before? I probably would. And so the album strikes me as pretty humorous, as I'm not really sure if Dylan's trying too hard or not trying at all. Which is... a good thing.
Then of course we have the above song, which I am assuming Dylan tossed off one drunken evening, then woke up the next morning so tickled by it that he decided to put out an entire Christmas album. In any case, I love it.
I mean, I don't know why he's doing a polka version of a song with some of the most banal lyrics even for the Christmas genre. I don't know why he spouts off a list of recent presidents after getting sick of listing reindeer. I don't know what the hell's going on in the video. I don't know what he's doing with his hair.
But it's gleefully dumb. And deranged as hell. And I guess if you're going to cover some Christmas song that seems designed to appear on children's holiday albums for the rest of eternity, that's probably the best way to do it. It's also a kick to hear Bob Dylan try his hand at polka.
I mean, really. Bob Dylan is doing polka. Obviously he just doesn't give a crap about what anyone else thinks.
OK. I feel better about liking this.
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