Review: Odetta - Christmas Spirituals (1960)

Tracks: 1) Virgin Mary Had One Son; 2) Somebody’s Talking About Jesus; 3) Ain’t That A-Rocking; 4) Mary Had A Baby; 5) Go Tell It On The Mountain; 6) Beautiful Star; 7) Poor Little Jesus; 8) Shout For Joy; 9) Oh, Jerusalem; 10) Rise Up Shepherd And Follow; 11) If Anybody Asks You; 12) What Month Was Jesus Born In?; 13) Children, Go Where I Send Thee.

REVIEW

While the cheesy tradition of the Christmas album is at least as old as Bing Crosby’s Merry Christmas from 1942, that of the «alternative Christmas album» is much more difficult to pinpoint. Yet in a way, the roots of the distinction between the likes of ABBA’s ‘Happy New Year’ or Shane MacGowan’s ‘Christmas Lullaby’ could probably be traced, with a little metaphorical skewing, all the way back to the distinction between Christmas carols — recordings of which are already piled up to the sky even before the arrival of LPs — and Christmas spirituals, which feature in far fewer numbers. Odetta’s own collection, brought out to the world during the Christmas season of 1960, was definitely not the first one — at the very least, there is Mahalia Jackson’s Sweet Little Jesus Boy from as early as 1955. But I have a serious hunch that it may have been the first one to be recorded this way — in the «alternative Christmas spirit», so to speak.

Because even Mahalia Jackson’s collection of Christmas spirituals is a record that can be easily and carelessly enjoyed over a nice family dinner — as warm, friendly, celebratory background music. Odetta’s approach was completely different: not deviating even one bit from her usual standards, she gives you Christmas not as an occasion to have fun and stuff your face, but as an excuse to sit and contemplate on the nature of Christmas as the starting point of liberation from pain, suffering, and sin — deep-felt jubilation steeped in the sorrows of slavery and oppression. This is quite explicitly stated already in the liner notes, and is made obvious in pretty much every single song on here, one of which (‘Poor Little Jesus’) is re-recorded in a new version, having already been previously cut for My Eyes Have Seen, but carries the exact same sentiment — empathy toward the destitute little boy, "poor little Jesus, born in a manger, ain’t that a pity and a shame?", something that the 19th century slave in his shack must have felt far more acutely than his owner over at the big plantation house.

Of course, as usual, this is not so much an «authentic recreation» of tradition as its re-imagining in the context of 1960 and its ongoing struggles. For what it’s worth, Christmas has traditionally been a time for joy and merriment both for the slave and the slaver, and from that point of view, Mahalia Jackson’s jubilation spirit of 1955 might be closer to the truth than Odetta’s spirit of deep darkness and bleakness of 1960. This is precisely why «alternative» Christmas albums shall always command only the tiniest proportion of listeners — even those of us who try to keep their eyes open to the world’s hurts and issues, let alone our own ones, will be naturally prone to trying to forget about them for the holiday season, rather than take the opportunity to wallow in our sorrow even deeper than usual.

From the starting notes of ‘Virgin Mary Had One Son’, which Odetta and Bill all but turn into a stern chamber sonata for guitar and double bass, song after song gives you a very, very black Christmas. Thus, on the opening number, Odetta plunges into her lowest range for the chorus hookline — "glory be to the newborn king" is delivered in an almost Disney-Evil-Queen vocal tone, spooking away all the kids before they even get a chance to assemble around the fireplace. Minutes later, ‘Somebody’s Talking About Jesus’ is a dialog between Odetta and Lee’s highly jazzy bass line that might easily fit on one of the contemporary Charlie Mingus albums, and there’s a strong note of terror rather than wonder in Odetta’s voice — the appearance of Jesus is clearly announced as an ominous mystery, the consequences of which are completely unpredictable, particularly to the conscience of a person whose life has been nothing but disappointments, disillusionments, and hopelessness so far.

Later on, starting with the gentle acoustic folk picking of ‘Ain’t That A-Rockin’, Odetta starts weaving in notes of gentle tenderness, which are still typically interwoven with sorrow, and the album settles into a relatively quiet, contemplative mood; it would make little sense to comment individually on the songs, as it would inevitably lead to discussion on the history and nature of specific spirituals rather than on Odetta’s actual contributions — which are, emotion-wise, more or less exhausted by the time of the third or fourth song, and begin to loop in a repetitive, but never less-than-pleasant circle. The only thing that does stand out is the final number, a cover of the traditional cumulative ditty ‘Children Go Where I Send Thee’ which Odetta approaches far more «seriously» than Nina Simone in her studio cover from the previous year — not only does she whip herself up into furious strumming mode, but she lets the song gallop on for seven exhausting minutes, as if truly possessed by the Holy Ghost, until the endless stream of "one for the little bitty baby... four for the four that stood at the door..." turns into a completely mechanical, auto-pilot, trance-like delivery. Probably the closest thing to «having a little bit of Christmas fun» on the entire record. (Also, bang, a sudden realization that Bob Dylan’s ‘Subterranean Homesick Blues’ is quite naturally based on this tune, both melodically and by way of phrasing).

Apart from the predictable issue of emotional monotonousness (which is not entirely true — in terms of melodies, tempos, and moods the songs are sufficiently different to not merge into one another), Christmas Spirituals still represents the Odetta / Lee duo at their collaborative peak — and an extremely fresh and innovative perspective on the musical embodi­ment of the Christmas season. Do beware, though, that the album comes in two different versions: much later on, in 1987, Odetta would re-record most of the songs and re-release them under the exact same title. The new album, distinguished by a Black Jesus on the cover, would feature some extra percussion and be sung in a slightly gentler tone, meaning that it is still perfectly listenable but does not quite have the same combination of power and minimalism as featured in the original, so if you are at all interested, be sure to seek out the 1960 version first.

• Only Solitaire reviews: Odetta