Many of us have been turned off by the commercialism and the manic shopping syndrome that threatens to spoil the holiday season; one would hope that something deeper was involved. Fortunately the real point comes into focus when listening to the new release by Over the Rhine, Blood Oranges in the Snow. Rather than call this nine-song CD a Christmas record, I’ll say that in various ways it touches on the subject without including any cuts that seems likely to become standard caroling material. Produced by Joe Henry, Over the Rhine’s two previous albums have been highly ambitious and intricately crafted; this self-produced recording retains their Americana sound while offering a more casual feel that fits the material well. The record starts quite nicely, the title track anticipating a long list of Christmas events, with Karin Bergquist singing in a relaxed style that marks a mature vocalist. She’s even better on Merle Haggard’s “If We Make It Through December,” the best track on the album. Vocally Linford Detweiler is much more limited, but I like how the two voices intertwine on “My Father’s Body.” Although a couple tracks near the middle of the record seem heavy handed, the closing selections, “First Snowfall” and “New Year’s Song,” are as warm, inviting, lyrically rich, and inspiring as the opening cuts. Ultimately this “Reality Christmas” record won’t depress you or make you hate the holiday season. It has too much warmth and compassion and love for that—all things we need plenty of during a time that can be stressful but can also remind us of the things that really matter.
By Jeff Wilson
This will take some explaining, but I can connect the dots between pawing through LPs at a headshop called Elysian Fields in Des Moines, Iowa, as a seventh grader, and becoming the Music Editor for The Absolute Sound. At that starting point—around 1970/71—Elysian Fields had more LPs than any other store in Des Moines. Staring at all the colorful covers was both tantalizing and frustrating. I had no idea who most of the artists were, because radio played only a fraction of what was current. To figure out what was going on, I realized that I needed to build a record collection—and as anyone who’s visited me since high school can testify, I succeeded. Record collecting was still in my blood when, starting in the late 1980s, the Cincinnati Public Library book sale suddenly had an Elysian Fields quantity of LPs from people who’d switched to CDs. That’s where I met fellow record hawk Mark Lehman, who preceded me as music editor of TAS. Mark introduced me to Jonathan Valin, whose 1993 detective novel The Music Lovers depicts the battles between record hawks at library sales. That the private eye in the book, Harry Stoner, would stumble upon a corpse or two while unraveling the mystery behind the disappearance of some rare Living Stereo platters made perfect sense to me. After all, record collecting is serious business. Mark knew my journalistic experience included concert reviews for The Cincinnati Enquirer and several long, sprawling feature articles in the online version of Crawdaddy. When he became TAS music editor in 2008, he contacted me about writing for the magazine. I came on board shortly after the latest set of obituaries had been written for vinyl—and, as fate had it, right when the LP started to make yet another unexpected comeback. Suddenly, I found myself scrambling to document all the record companies pressing vinyl. Small outfits were popping up world-wide, and many were audiophile-oriented, plus already existing record companies began embracing the format again. Trying to keep track of everything made me feel, again, like that overwhelmed seventh grader in Elysian Fields, and as Music Editor I’ve found that keeping my finger on the pulse of the music world also requires considerable detective work. I’ve never had a favorite genre, but when it comes time to sit down and do some quality listening, for me nothing beats a well-recorded small-group jazz recording on vinyl. If a stereo can give me warmth and intimacy, tonal accuracy, clear imaging, crisp-sounding cymbals, and deep, woody-sounding bass, then I’m a happy camper.
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