This album is from 1994, but there's no indication when this stuff was recorded, apart from sometime during the age of stereo (checked it with headphones), although I detect drum machine on some of these tunes. UPDATE: It was originally put out in 1974, according to the Wikipedia entry, so 1994 is the CD release. Harry's been in the biz since the 1930s, according to the liner notes, and is best known for "Who Put the Benzedrine in Mrs. Murphy's Ovaltine," a Dr. Demento staple. The good doc also plays his "I Wish My Mother-in-law Don't Visit Us This Christmas," which is here. The rest is jazz and boogie-woogie versions of standards, of which the best items are "Twas the Night Before Christmas Boogie," in which he does a Lord Buckley on the famous holiday poem, and the follow-up, "Twas the Day After Christmas Boogie." Recently in 1970s Category
This album is from 1994, but there's no indication when this stuff was recorded, apart from sometime during the age of stereo (checked it with headphones), although I detect drum machine on some of these tunes. UPDATE: It was originally put out in 1974, according to the Wikipedia entry, so 1994 is the CD release. Harry's been in the biz since the 1930s, according to the liner notes, and is best known for "Who Put the Benzedrine in Mrs. Murphy's Ovaltine," a Dr. Demento staple. The good doc also plays his "I Wish My Mother-in-law Don't Visit Us This Christmas," which is here. The rest is jazz and boogie-woogie versions of standards, of which the best items are "Twas the Night Before Christmas Boogie," in which he does a Lord Buckley on the famous holiday poem, and the follow-up, "Twas the Day After Christmas Boogie." 
The world of "Star Wars" has been merchandised so relentlessly over the years that it's no longer surprising that there's a 1978 Christmas album featuring cast members from the "Star Wars" movies. It's the soundtrack to a horrifying TV special that has managed to stay mostly unavailable on home video for all the reasons you might expect. As you might guess from something so reviled even by Star Wars fanbois, the songs they've given us here are ridiculous, worthy only of being used in a sketch on "Viva Variety" or "Mad TV." Try this song title on for size: "What Can You Get a Wookie For Christmas (When He Already Owns a Comb)?" And if that's not bad enough, they revisit the gag later in the album. Its sporadic availability appears to have something to do with the fact that one of the backing musicians was the man currently known as Jon Bon Jovi. Further rock connection: Jefferson Starship guested on the show, but nothing of theirs is on this disc. The album is out of print once more, currently fetching collector prices on Amazon.
This quasi-country novelty record originated on the Pat label in Tennessee in 1979 and was picked up by British punk-new wave label Stiff in 1980; it was several more years before American radio got hold of it and played it into the ground. The familiar version was re-recorded, however, and is a lot more cornball-sounding than the original. If I have to endure this record, I prefer it be the original version. Somewhere along the line, Elmo got his Ph.D. and is now referred to as "Dr. Elmo," and he has recorded such follow-ups as "Grandpa's Gonna Sue the Pants off Santa," "Don't Make Me Play that Grandma Song Again" and "Kenneth Starr is Coming To Town." UPDATE: Pam Wendell, Dr. Elmo's publicist, writes to tell us that the artist is a retired veterinarian, hence the Dr. designation. His latest work is 2010's Dr. Elmo: Bluegrass Christmas, and yes, there's a remake of his greatest hit in that style.
The 1970s was a real love-hate decade for a lot of us musically, in that there was a lot of great music around, but almost none of it hit the charts because of the double-barreled assault of corporate rock and disco. The Salsoul Orchestra was the brainchild of Vincent Montana Jr., who worked behind the scenes on the many disco releases of the Salsoul label. Since everybody from Barbra Streisand to Wayne Newton to Blondie was making disco records in the second half of the decade, a disco Christmas album was inevitable, and this is it. There are a few original tunes, but the second half of this program is taken up by a lengthy "Christmas Medley" of familiar carols in disco, followed by a "New Year's Medley" that starts with Montana's "Auld Lang Disco" and segues, inexplicably, into "I'm Looking Over a Four Leaf Clover," "Alabama Jubilee," "Oh, Dem Golden Slippers" and "God Bless America." You twentysomethings may find this quaint, a lot of rock fans are already blaring "DISCO SUCKS!" at the top of their lungs, and I say it's so bad it's almost worthwhile. It's been reissued several times since 1976 under different titles with different covers, on vinyl and CD, but the ones I've seen always seem to have a back view of a woman wearing a T-shirt that says "Dance Your As (sic) to Salsoul" on it, with badly airbrushed fur around the bottom to cover up what once was her bare butt.
Shudder. You might guess the 70s weren't my favorite decade, and you'd be right. That said, this compilation of holiday tunes, while highly toxic to 70s veterans like myself, still manages to have a number of cuts of interest. Both of Martin Mull's Christmas songs are here, the hilarious blaxploitation parody "Santafly" and the cautionary "Santa Doesn't Cop Out On Dope." Cheech and Chong's "Santa Claus and His Old Lady" is here too. Gary Glitter weighs in with "Another Rock 'N Roll Christmas" and Jim Croce, the Chuck Berry of folk music, offers his own "It Doesn't Have To Be That Way." A sappy instrumental of "The Christmas Song" by The Jimmy Castor Bunch was a major disappointment to those of us who recall Jimmy's hilarious work on "Troglodyte," and slightly cracked folkie Melanie's "Merry Christmas" is about what you'd expect. As for the rest, I'll just rattle off the artists: Bobby Sherman (twice!), The Osmonds and Donnie and Marie, Liberace, Glen Campbell, Ricky Segall and The Segalls, Grandpa Walton, and, so bad it's almost good, Wayne Newton's "Jingle Bell Hustle." It's out of print now, but copies are still floating around.
Writers are listed as disco writer/producer Paul Jabara and a P. Shaffer, who may or may not be David Letterman's bandleader. UPDATE: It's him. The Weather Girls were that most ephemeral of entities, a disco novelty act whose big hit was "It's Raining Men," and former member Martha Wash later was known for claiming to have done lead vocal chores on Paula Abdul records without credit. Nevertheless, the Weather Girls could sing and jive, and this record just oozes attitude, even if the backing is straight assembly line late 70s disco. My copy is a promo 45, but I'm pretty sure it has turned up on one CBS/Sony compilation CD or another in recent years, though you'll need to get their hits compilation to find it now.
Most people only know Martin Mull from his comic acting turns in various sitcoms and movies and his recurring role on "Roseanne" as Leon, the homosexual boss from hell. Back in the 70s, though, he had a recording career as a satiric pop-folk singer and did six or seven albums of humorous songs and pop parodies. "Santa Doesn't Cop Out" is a little too cute (and Sonic Youth's version isn't much of an improvement), but "Santafly" is a hilarious takeoff on 70s R'nB, blaxploitation soundtrack division, as you might guess from the title. None of Martin's original albums except Martin Mull and his Fabulous Furniture in Your Living Room are currently in print, to my knowledge, but these two songs are part of Rhino's Have a Nice Christmas compilation, which is out of print as well but may be lurking on Amazon or eBay somewhere.
