Christmas Music Masterpieces You Probably Haven’t Heard
By Jon Hersey
Judging by the typical holiday playlist, an alien might reasonably conclude that humans stopped trying to record great Christmas music roughly fifty years ago. As nice and nostalgic as it is to listen to the same old recordings year after year, it’s also nice—on the rare occasion that something measures up to the likes of Bing Crosby, Elvis, and Vince Guaraldi—to expand one’s holiday soundtrack palette. Toward that end, I’d like to throw out two suggestions, one old and underappreciated, one contemporary but not exactly mainstream, both of which were rereleased in new editions this year.
Behold by Lauren Daigle
For me, an atheist who sees the destructiveness of believing things on faith (in the absence of evidence, or contrary to it), Christmas is not a birthday celebration for some magic savior. Rather, it is an opportunity to bask in a surplus of material values while celebrating the spiritual values that make it possible—such as knowledge, ingenuity, perseverance—as well as those that make it worthwhile—including friendship, family, and love.
Nonetheless, I accept that many who feel the legitimate need for a rich spiritual life fail to conceive of any alternative but fairy tales of some better-than-thou being before which to grovel and, somehow, feel exaltation. Fortunately, at least a genuine feeling of reverence—a legitimate response to the highest and best of which people are capable—comes through in some truly great recordings made by Christian artists (if not through their lyrics).
That, anyway, is one of the values I get from Lauren Daigle’s Behold, perhaps the best modern Christmas album, not only for its moments of solemn admiration but also for its incredibly buoyant groove and sweet sense of life. Daigle is from Lake Charles, Louisiana, and her New Orleans jazz roots are audible from the album’s very first notes, a clarinet pickup leading into one of the most pulsing renditions of “Jingle Bells” ever recorded. Piano and horn fills skate briskly over an absolutely massive sounding upright bass, and Daigle’s perfectly harmonized vocals give way to horn solos that would make Louis Armstrong smile with delight.
This level of syncopated, layered complexity is possible only when musical masters play live in the studio together, listening deeply to one another and responding with studied spontaneity. This is a magic ingredient of the old-school recording approach that made the Christmas classics so great—but one less and less common as more and more music is recorded in bedrooms on laptops, one track at a time. And the magic holds throughout Behold, even on quieter tunes such as “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” so relaxed that you can practically hear a fire crackling in the sound of brushes sliding across the snare.
Daigle’s voice is liquid caramel on “What Child Is This?,” drizzled over a chunky rhythm section and frosted with a Louis Prima-style trumpet solo, with expressive voice-like muting. Like her version of “Jingle Bells,” her take on “White Christmas” is another of the funkiest moments in holiday music. It opens with a bass figure counterpointed by horns, and her vocals glisten between dustings of twinkling piano. During the solo section, the horns erupt together in a gloriously tangled dance of melding melodies. For those who must have their Christmas music as secular as their morning coffee, there are plenty of tracks here to work into your playlists.
But if you want something you can put on and listen to from beginning to end, instrumental music is your best bet. And you’re in luck.
In 2019, Real Gone Music released an album that, for the first time ever, brought together all the Christmas recordings of Mr. Guitar himself—Chet Atkins—and earlier this year, Sony rereleased this album for streaming and download.
Winter Walkin’ combines Chet’s classic 1961 album Christmas with Chet Atkins, his 1976 rerecordings of many of these songs, his 1983 East Tennessee Christmas, plus a slew of holiday tracks that originally appeared on various compilations. It’s the ultimate Christmas collection from the “Country Gentleman.”
Although Chet Atkins may no longer be a household name, he is easily one of the most talented guitarists in history, pioneering (along with Merle Travis) a fingerpicking style that enabled him to play melodies and rhythm accompaniment simultaneously, much as piano players do. (In fact, he could even play two different songs at the same time.) It would take at least two lesser players, for instance, to accomplish what Chet does alone on “Christmas Carols,” a medley of classics arranged for solo guitar.
Many who do know of Chet tend to think of him purely as a country musician—the subject of some fun banter between Mark Knopfler and him on the duet, “There’ll Be Some Changes Made,” from their 1990 album Neck and Neck. While a producer and manager at RCA, Chet helped create the “popwise” Nashville sound that launched many country artists to mainstream success, but his rockabilly take on “Jingle Bells” shows how and why he was influential far beyond country music. His clean, buttoned-up, almost hi-fi sound may seem worlds away from the raucous, distorted guitars of the rock ’n’ roll that came later. But Mr. Guitar was nonetheless a major influence on such players as George Harrison—who named Chet the “greatest instrumentalist” and favored his signature model Gretsch “Country Gentleman” guitar—and Knopfler, one of the few rock guitarists to play almost exclusively finger style. “I remember thinking that his guitar playing was from another planet, that I would never be able to play like that,” Knopfler reflected. “I still think that, actually.”1
Able to generate so much music with a single instrument, Chet often opted for small bands, leaving plenty of room center stage for his guitar, as is the case with most of the tracks here. But as a longtime Nashville producer, he could certainly arrange for larger ensembles, including orchestral strings. Listeners get a taste of that here, particularly on “Greensleeves.” Chet’s twangy hollowbody guitar sound, drenched in reverb, is especially plaintive and sweet among strings that well up and take the limelight. Some of the tracks on Winter Walkin’ also have vocals. A cheery child joins in on “Sleighbells, Reindeer and Snow,” giving his best, cutest attempt to sing in key.
The 1976 recordings were, for the most part, (almost eerily) exact re-creations of the 1961 recordings, made for a different label. “The Bells of St. Mary’s,” however, appears here twice in starkly different treatments (it’s unclear whether the second was recorded during the 1976 sessions or for inclusion on a compilation). Whereas the 1961 version is fairly laid back and features only guitar and bass, the later version—apparently recorded after Chet had had three cups of strong black coffee—is more energetic, stressing its country origins and featuring fiddle, harmonica, and steel guitar.
Predictably, perhaps, the 1983 recordings stand out like a sore thumb. Their more modern production makes everything sound closer and more in your face, meaning also less airy and magically atmospheric. And Chet’s brilliance is often buried in larger orchestrations, including cheesy synth sounds and flat (yet overwrought) background vocals.2 Thankfully, a few more stripped-down tracks give Chet’s virtuosity the spotlight it deserves, including a gorgeous rendition of “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” (which happens to be one of my favorite Christmas songs) and “Ave Maria.”
Whichever era Chet you prefer, it’s all here on one forty-six track, nearly two-hour collection, the perfect (mostly) instrumental accompaniment to your holiday get-togethers.
I hope you have a merry Christmas and that these albums help you milk maximum spiritual value from it!