Every year, Joe Algeri (aka The JAC) offers up another slice of Power Pop Christmas heaven. It's usually accompanied by a nice piece of dry wit explaining how the new track came to be, the hazards overcome, the in-studio fights over artistic direction. It's brilliant stuff, really. Here's a small taste of this year's:
Unusually, it was smooth sailing thereafter even though Stefan was highly suspicious that the drums on the final mix didn't really resemble what he played on the take. There were also protests from Lars who played a traditional Icelandic Langspil which now sounds like an 80s synth. However, Herb's bass sounded like a bass because Mr. Producer never forgot that black eye from 2009.
So Joe does something special for Christmas and, most years, I try to match Joe's wit in the write-up. You see, that special kind of dry wit is a specialty of my family. Might be genetic, I don't know. My mother was, and my brother is, especially good at it. And, at family gatherings, we crack each other up with stuff that draws stares and threats of physical violence from others. That's when the trouble usually starts...when we take it ourside. We've been kicked off planes (not mid-flight, thank goodness) and I got a very nasty haircut, once, from a barber who thought (wrongly) that I'd somehow insulted his heritage (even though he didn't understand what I'd said, he was sure it was insulting and aimed at him and his ancestors). This isn't me trying to be witty; these things really happen to us because most people don't get our kind of dry wit.
So I try to be as witty as Joe (or the credited author, Mal Hope) and it never works out. It's frankly time I admit that, at best, I'm a half wit and, at worst, I'm witless. And I do believe I've used that line before. I'm no more proud than I am funny. But, anyway, it's nearly 8 o'clock in the morning. I haven't slept in something like 22 or 23 hours (and the worst of that is I got absolutely nothing down). And, because I wanted Joe's new tune to be at the top of this page today (and the blog insists on posting things in the order written), it is, of course, the last thing I'm getting to and I'm completely out of gas (insert your own joke here).
Joe's been at this Christmas song game for, what, 15 years now? He truly is a genius. Usually, he'll toss in some unusual instruments like a sitar or a theramin or something. But "Christmas Without Maria" doesn't seem to have any of that. It's just a good old fashioned jangly Rickenbacker guitar straight ahead Power Pop Christmas tune (just like the ones we used to know). And I'll tell you where my currently mushy head was at, listening this morning. I started looking at the cover art and thinking, "I wonder if this song is about Vincent Van Gogh." (Now, even Joe is scratching his head and saying WTF?)
There's only that one line--"paint the sky a different hue"--and that's obviously a metaphor.. Although this one...."a tearless cry / as we dance beneath the stars of why"...that sounds very Van Gogh to me. Well, Van Gogh or Prince, one of those two.
So, anyway, I start to wonder if there was ever a Maria in Van Gogh's life. And, you know, there was. Clasina Maria Hoornik (commonly known as Sien) was a poor woman who got by any way she could, including working as a prostitute. She modeled for Vincent and, later, she and her daughter were taken in by Vincent, from about 1881 to 1883. Most of Vincent's family disowned him because of the relationship. Which is sad because here were two tragic figures who found a little bit (just a tiny bit) of happiness for a brief moment in time. Both would end up killing themselves.
All of which has absolutely nothing to do with "Christmas Without Maria" (I'm fairly certain) by Joe Algeri (aka The JAC) with help from his "Christmas Crew". But that's what happens when your mind turns to mush from lack of sleep. So, if you're still reading what I'm wrting, you probably have too much time on your hands, or you're a doctor of psychiatry who is plotting your next book. Forget me and go grab "Christmas Without Maria", free at Bandcamp. If you're new to these here parts, there's more free JAC Christmas gold to be found there, too. And don't forget to read Mal Hope's latest tale of the tape....ing. Jeez, I really need to get some sleep, now.
Unusually, it was smooth sailing thereafter even though Stefan was highly suspicious that the drums on the final mix didn't really resemble what he played on the take. There were also protests from Lars who played a traditional Icelandic Langspil which now sounds like an 80s synth. However, Herb's bass sounded like a bass because Mr. Producer never forgot that black eye from 2009.
So Joe does something special for Christmas and, most years, I try to match Joe's wit in the write-up. You see, that special kind of dry wit is a specialty of my family. Might be genetic, I don't know. My mother was, and my brother is, especially good at it. And, at family gatherings, we crack each other up with stuff that draws stares and threats of physical violence from others. That's when the trouble usually starts...when we take it ourside. We've been kicked off planes (not mid-flight, thank goodness) and I got a very nasty haircut, once, from a barber who thought (wrongly) that I'd somehow insulted his heritage (even though he didn't understand what I'd said, he was sure it was insulting and aimed at him and his ancestors). This isn't me trying to be witty; these things really happen to us because most people don't get our kind of dry wit.
So I try to be as witty as Joe (or the credited author, Mal Hope) and it never works out. It's frankly time I admit that, at best, I'm a half wit and, at worst, I'm witless. And I do believe I've used that line before. I'm no more proud than I am funny. But, anyway, it's nearly 8 o'clock in the morning. I haven't slept in something like 22 or 23 hours (and the worst of that is I got absolutely nothing down). And, because I wanted Joe's new tune to be at the top of this page today (and the blog insists on posting things in the order written), it is, of course, the last thing I'm getting to and I'm completely out of gas (insert your own joke here).
Joe's been at this Christmas song game for, what, 15 years now? He truly is a genius. Usually, he'll toss in some unusual instruments like a sitar or a theramin or something. But "Christmas Without Maria" doesn't seem to have any of that. It's just a good old fashioned jangly Rickenbacker guitar straight ahead Power Pop Christmas tune (just like the ones we used to know). And I'll tell you where my currently mushy head was at, listening this morning. I started looking at the cover art and thinking, "I wonder if this song is about Vincent Van Gogh." (Now, even Joe is scratching his head and saying WTF?)
There's only that one line--"paint the sky a different hue"--and that's obviously a metaphor.. Although this one...."a tearless cry / as we dance beneath the stars of why"...that sounds very Van Gogh to me. Well, Van Gogh or Prince, one of those two.
So, anyway, I start to wonder if there was ever a Maria in Van Gogh's life. And, you know, there was. Clasina Maria Hoornik (commonly known as Sien) was a poor woman who got by any way she could, including working as a prostitute. She modeled for Vincent and, later, she and her daughter were taken in by Vincent, from about 1881 to 1883. Most of Vincent's family disowned him because of the relationship. Which is sad because here were two tragic figures who found a little bit (just a tiny bit) of happiness for a brief moment in time. Both would end up killing themselves.
All of which has absolutely nothing to do with "Christmas Without Maria" (I'm fairly certain) by Joe Algeri (aka The JAC) with help from his "Christmas Crew". But that's what happens when your mind turns to mush from lack of sleep. So, if you're still reading what I'm wrting, you probably have too much time on your hands, or you're a doctor of psychiatry who is plotting your next book. Forget me and go grab "Christmas Without Maria", free at Bandcamp. If you're new to these here parts, there's more free JAC Christmas gold to be found there, too. And don't forget to read Mal Hope's latest tale of the tape....ing. Jeez, I really need to get some sleep, now.
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