With Christmas Day just over the horizon it's time to wrap up my review of the 41 tracks on my 20th and most recent holiday compilation, "I Wish It Was Christmas Today." I've enjoyed providing a bit of background on the contents of this year's package, and hope I may have introduced you to something new to you. There are only three tracks left to consider, so let's get to it!
Track 39
Raindrops on the Rooftop, Gene Marshall
Back in the 1960s and '70s, ads like the one to the right were often seen in the back of low-brow publications urging readers to submit their original poetry so it could be set to music. What the ads didn't mention was that adding music would cost money, but by the time that was disclosed a good number of the would-be lyricists were willing to spend a couple of hundred bucks to set their words to music. The results — often tragic but always unique — are called "song poems," and I've been collecting them for years. More than a few of these little gems have holiday themes, and I've been sticking them on my annual mixes pretty regularly from my very first compilation. I've posted more than a few times about these song poems, and you can review some of those older posts by using the index in the far-right column.
The lyrics to this tune were written by one Veta Viola Clark and sung by Gene Marshall, one of the more popular vocalists from the song-poem mills. I was introduced to this tune via one of my favorite offbeat music blogs, Bob Purse's "The Wonderful and the Obscure." In fact, Bob's blog is the only place I was able to find any reference to the song, so I appreciate his diligence in unearthing it and generosity in sharing it. Bob has good things to say about Marshall's performance, which, I agree, is as solid as ever. Indeed, the whole performance comes off well, which isn't always the case in the world of song poems. Yet Bob labels the song a "Christmas [d]owner," which is also true, based on the straightforward words Ms. Clark has penned. While listening to this track, Bob found himself thinking
what was the writer's
intention in putting together this lyric? Because the song is all about
how Santa can't go to areas where it's raining and there's no snow.
Presumably the
song wasn't intended for those who are past the Santa age, or who were never
there to begin with. I would think most songs about Santa's visit (aside from
winking ones like "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus", and a few I can
think of with very adult themes), are directed straight at those who are
actually (and anxiously) awaiting his arrival with parcels of toys.
So, again, why
write a song presenting the very real possibility of rain on Christmas Eve, and
which states directly that, in that case, Santa simply won't arrive. To play it
for the kiddies? And if you do, what if it's raining that night?
I think it's a pretty little number myself, but parents should exercise caution before playing it for young children in areas without snow.
Gene Merlino
Sadly, I have some further "downer" news to share from The Wonderful and the Obscure blog — namely, the passing of Gene Marshall this past January 8, at the age of 95. Marshall, whose real name was Gene Merlino, led a full and active life outside of his extensive song-poem work. A native of California, he played saxophone and sang for a number of popular touring bands, did extensive session work with a variety of recording artists and regularly appeared on the country's leading variety shows, including The Judy Garland Show, The Carol Burnett Show and the Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour. In 1967, he won a Grammy award as a member of the Anita Kerr Singers for the 1967 hit "A Man and a Woman." Merlino was also a member of the group that sang the theme for the TV show "Gilligan's Island." He claimed to have recorded as many as 10,000 song poems under the names Gene Marshall and John Muir. He and his talents will be missed.
This is the eighth time I've included a song by New Zealand vocalist Wingon one of my mixes, so I want to salute and thank Wing for her music and her contributions to date. "Silent Night" appears on Wing's 2009 album "Carols, Rap and Sing," along with four other spirited holiday tunes.
I wrote a lengthy post in 2014 about the singer, whose full name is Wing Han Tsang
(曾詠韓), and it doesn't appear that she's released any new records since then. Of course, her catalogue already included 20 releases as of ten years ago, so there's no shortage of music available for fans who want to hear more. Moreover, Wing is known for her wide variety of stylings, so listeners can find everything from show tunes to rap to heavy metal among her previous releases.
With that said, let me get right to this year's selection, which can undoubtedly speak for itself:
Written in the Snow, Bruce Haack and Ted Pandel (1976)
I usually like to end each mix with something thoughtful and pretty — something that harkens back to days gone by or reminds us of friends and loved ones who are no longer with us. When I first heard this song, I immediately thought it would be a good choice to place at the end of a holiday mix, and I think it works pretty well at the end of this one.
The song comes from a rather odd album called "Ebenezer Electric," a retelling of Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" by experimental composer Bruce Haack with the participation of his frequent collaborator, Ted Pandel. Best known for the children's records he produced in the 1960s and '70s, Haack's experimental electronic music has received greater recognition recently than it did during his lifetime. He died in New York in 1988.
An only child, Haack grew up in relative isolation in rural Canada. He taught himself piano without the ability to read music, and developed a lifelong interest in synthesizers and electronic music soon after. Although he was admitted to Julliard on full scholarship, he did not fit in there and dropped out before finishing his first year. While at Julliard he met Pandel, who became his roommate and collaborator. While Pandel pursued a more typical classical music education at Julliard, Haack focused more on building his own electronic instruments and writing songs. His work with electronica led to several TV appearances, but Haack had trouble selling his music at first. However, one of his songs, "I Like Christmas," did wind up on the B Side of a 1958 single by singer Teresa Brewer.
Haack eventually took a job as a page at ABC Studios, where he met Chris Kachulis, who became his manager. With Kachulis' help, he had some success selling commercial jingles and the like and produced several lucrative records of music for dance instruction. He also produced a series of children's records that incorporated a variety of musical styles and addressed children with an unusual level of maturity and respect. Haack also completed a project called "The Electric Lucifer," which married electronic and rock styles to tell a story about the war between good and evil. Kachulis got the legendary executive John Hammond to listen to the project, and Hammond arranged for it to be released on Columbia. The album attracted some favorable notice but minimal commercial success.
"Written in the Snow" is a largely unknown record, and it lacks the futuristic and otherworldly sound for which Haack eventually became known. But it has an ethereal beauty that I find especially appealing, and leads one to call up Christmases past and the indelible memories of long-ago holidays. Kind of a neat way to wind things down:
The version of the song that appears on my mix is followed by a surprise, Hidden Track 42, that starts 10 or 12 seconds after the end of "Written in the Snow." It's a little message originally recorded by Stompin' Tom Connor that sums up my own thoughts better than I could do myself. You can hear it HERE. Thanks to all of you who have listened to any of these mixes, and Happy Holidays to all!
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