Album Review

Full disclosure: I have very little patience for Christmas music. My better half usually finds one of those soft-rock stations that switch it to all Xmas, all the time, sometime around October 1, and I suffer the indignities of listening to 893 different versions of “O Holy Night.” I’m usually begging for mercy by the new year.

So it was that I had a mixed reaction upon hearing that Bob Dylan, yes, that Bob Dylan, would be releasing an album full of Christmas songs. On the one hand, it felt like this would be a miscalculation of epic proportions on Dylan’s part, a folly that would make Self Portrait look like his magnum opus. On the other hand, I had a creeping confidence that the master could do something subversive. After all, the title of the album, Christmas in the Heart, practically begs you to roll your eyes and not take it seriously, even with all of the proceeds from the album earmarked for charity.

Well, I was right about one thing, because he found a way to be subversive, but in the most ingeniously unexpected way: He plays these Christmas songs straight. In a world increasingly devoid of things about which we can be hopeful, leave it to Dylan, not exactly known as the world’s great optimist, to tap into the true spirit of the season as a time to put aside irony and cynicism and just believe in something, even if only for a night.

You get the drift pretty early on that Dylan has sincerity on his mind when the first sound that you hear is sleigh bells on “Here Comes Santa Claus.” There are even some Ray Conniff-type backup singers chirping in call-and-response fashion throughout. But the arrangements are kept relatively spare, Dylan’s touring band treading lightly on this material, which illuminates the fact that these songs are like Darwinian marvels of songwriting, sturdy enough to withstand years upon years of scrutiny. Dylan treats them as songs rather than hallmarks of the season, and the results are often revelatory.

The other secret weapon here is Bob’s voice. Because he doesn’t have the instrument to pound these songs into submission as so many of the others that frequent holiday radio do, Dylan actually dares to find meaning in these lyrics. The vulnerability of songs like “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” and “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” shines through, as does the reverence and awe in songs like “Little Drummer Boy” and “Do You Hear What I Hear?”

There is no denying that some of this is a little bit surreal. Hearing Dylan tackling the first verse of “O Come All Ye Faithful (Adeste Fideles)” certainly is a mind-bender. There is some unintentional comedy in hearing him belting out “Hark The Herald Angels Sing,” and not giving a reindeer dropping about missing a note or two (or 48). And if you’ve ever entertained hallucinations in which Bobby D fronts a polka combo, then you’ll feel right at home with the riotous, accordion-fueled take on “Must Be Santa.”

For those wondering, Bob diplomatically gives us both lyrical takes on “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas,” splitting the difference between the hopeful Frank Sinatra version and the morbid Judy Garland take. And it must be noted that not even Dylan can breathe life into “The Christmas Song,” which could withstand a redo by Lady Gaga and still sound corny. But I digress.

The bottom line is that the man and his band have managed to scrape years of rust off of these classics and treat them with a heartwarming amount of respect and care. I’d compare him to Santa Claus, but, in truth, he keeps a much busier touring schedule than Mr. Kringle these days. Yes, Virginia, there is a Dylan, and he has managed to make yours truly, a Christmas Carol-humbugger, believe in these songs once again.

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