Los Straitjackets
'Tis The Season
Yep Roc Records
by William Michael Smith

In the post 9/11 atmosphere of togetherness and solidarity and our rediscovered sense of patriotism and spirituality, it is probably suicide for a music critic to state that Christmas music sucks. Like an Oreck vacuum cleaner with a 500 cubic inch turbocharged Dukes of Hazzard gas-guzzling hemi plugged into the 220V socket.

Think about it; if necessity is the mother of invention, Christmas music is what necessitated the invention of Muzak. And liquored-up egg nog. And Wellbutrin. When I hear Christmas music, I immediately think, "I wonder if there's an elevator nearby?" Law enforcement and psychiatrists tell us the holidays see an increase in suicides. So why has no one run a study to see if those tendencies diminish for those who don't have frequent exposure to Ahmal and the Night Visitors?

Normally a psychologically level guy seldom prone neither to extreme highs or lows, I generally find...no, screw generally... I specifically find Christmas to be the one thing in my yearly cycle of seasons that can bring on anything near what is commonly called depression. Sure, part of it is the annual buying-the-perfect-gift-for-every-living-relative shop-a-thon -- I'd rather have an open heart surgery without anesthetics than hear the words "we need to do some Christmas shopping today." An even bigger part of it is the insipid vapidity (vapidity is not a word? Well, it should be!) that seems to overcome people (who the rest of the year are fairly normal) at the parties, the progressive dinners, the gift opening orgies. These otherwise rational people are suddenly under the spell of the whole groupthink syndrome of "the spirit of the season." Nothing depresses me more, makes me want to open up a vein and bleed to death than Christmas music. Nothing is more depressing (ah, screw depressing, let's substitute the true feeling -- boring!) than a party where the background music -- which is supposed to get the partygoers "into the spirit of the season" -- is some cheesecake over-arranged version of "Little Drummer Boy" by the Ray Coniff Singers or Mitch Miller and His Orchestra. Or music from "The Nutcracker" by any-fucking-body!

But there is hope for those of us with the Christmas-music-makes-me-want-to-kill syndrome. For some killer Christmas music, for Christmas music able to cause those holier-than-thou-Lexus-driving relatives to slosh wassail all over your shag carpet, lodge gingerbread men and fruit cake in their windpipes, and scramble for the door like bargain shoppers on the morning after Thanksgiving, punch play on Los Straitjackets' 'Tis The Season.

Watch the honored guests drop those little heart clogging mystery meat empanadas, walk directly to the kitchen sink and empty their cups of jasmine tea, and go straight to the liquor cabinet for a stiff shot of The Best Procurable. If it would make your Christmas to see the effete, social-climbing wife of the next door neighbor take on a look that says "terrorists have taken over the party" and frantically search her purse for all four bottles of her 'mother's little helpers,' turn Los Straitjackets' "Little Drummer Boy" up to notch 12 -- and just to make sure she gets it, push in that "MegaBass" button -- and then sit back and watch her wild-eyed disoriented panic as Jimmy Lester, one of the premier drummers in rock, drops a real Christmas drum beat on her pointy little only-her-hairdresser-knows-for-sure head. Just lick your chops and wait until some brain surgeon says, "Why is there a drum solo at the close of that song?" "Uh the song is called 'Little Drummer Boy,' Einstein." Nothing makes a Christmas party roar like pouring another half-gallon of Jagermeister into the punch, spicing it up with a handful of sedatives you filched from your neighbor's wife's purse, and turning Los Straitjackets' "Let It Snow" to max.

OK, I'm gonna drop the coy pretenses and just come on out with it -- I love this Christmas record. Want to see sugarplums dance without the aid of Thorazine? Imagine The Ventures doing a dozen Christmas standards after discovering that they were getting new bongs for Christmas and a lifetime supply of primo bong-stuffing material. The Straitjackets -- Lester, bassist Pete Curry, and mondo-Fender-bender guitarists Eddie Angel and Danny Amis -- just explode on these normally saccharine standards with all the virtuosity and rock attitude they have brought to their previous albums. Some of these tracks rock so hard they should come with sunglasses, a tube of SPF-40, and a package of Big Johnson surfboard wax. One of the original tunes, "Christmas Weekend," has all the attack and attitude of Dick Dale on a ginseng high, and "Jingle Bells Rock" actually lives up to its title for once. The opening track, Gene Autry's "Here Comes Santa Claus," bursts the silence like the opening 45 spinning at a sock hop. Frankie and Annette could appear at any moment as Santa surfs down the chimney in his Ray-Bans.

On several tracks the 'jackets get clever, laying the melody over an entirely different song signature. On "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen," the rhythm section is playing "Pipeline" until the lead guitarist Ventures into the mix with his tasty spaghetti-western-ish reverb. "Feliz Navidad," perhaps the most trivialized and schmaltz-ified Christmas tune on planet Earth, is intro'd with a "La Bamba" signature before transcending into a rock and roll calypso. For added fun, they've given "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" and "Christmas In Las Vegas" (another original) hints of Latin Sergio Mendes rhythm over the Nokie Edwards guitar stylings.

On other tracks, the band plays it entirely straight, content just to work on a beautiful melody or progression. On "Frosty The Snowman," Curry's bass drives the track along at a good tempo and there is a fun feel until the break, when the guitarists desert the slightly riki-tik style and explode with some nasty rock licks. The take on Mel Torme's "The Christmas Song" (you know, "chestnuts roasting on an open fire") is lovingly exact, right down to the guitarists extracting Torme's mellow but slightly blue tone.

Two tracks were produced by Heartbreaker Mike Campbell and Mark Linnett, who works regularly with Los Straitjackets. On the cheesy "A Marshmallow World," Lester goes totally big beat and may have set a world record for drum rolls in a two-minute song. Lester is also at the forefront of "Sleigh Ride," which intros with the familiar "Telstar" theme and features precision picking and huge whammy bar excellence that give it an authentic '60s surf aura.

While it's all good, the stunner here is the out-of-control Lester totally in control on "Little Drummer Boy." While the little drummer man pounds away with his Grateful Dead tribal beat, the guitarists play the melody in the straightest fashion possible, with absolute precision and huge reverb.

As with any Straitjackets' album, 'Tis The Season is a no-bows-and-ribbons stick of audio dynamite. Throw it into the midst of your next Christmas party and forget the wassail and gingerbread men.

* Los Straitjackets 'Tis The Season, the gift for that someone who has everything. Christmas music can be fun. No, really. www.yeproc.com or www.straitjackets.com

Contact William Michael Smith at wms-at-rockzilla.net

 
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