Hum for the Holidays, Vol. 000001

post brought to you by: ledyard

In the first part of my ‘Hum for the Holidays’ series, I review ‘Re: Generations’, (audio link warning) a mash-up album which takes the beloved and legendary singer Nat ‘King’ Cole and places him on top of hip-hop drum loops from the late 90’s. This is not necessarily holiday music, but its ubiquity during the shopping season places it firmly in the pantheon of other perennial holiday favorites, such as mall Santas or Black Friday homicides.

When listening, I can’t help but get the urge to buy a new pair of 3/4-length cargo pants. Perhaps this is because the key demographic for this album is Old Navy shoppers. Now, I am not referring to the many people who shop at Old Navy in between doing other things with their lives (FACT: Every American home contains at least 3 French-rib chest-stripe pullovers). No, I am referring specifically to the people currently in an Old Navy store at this very moment.

We’ve all experienced this sensation before, particularly around the holidays: it’s getting late, and you’re hurrying to get that last gift, a tech vest made entirely of purple camo fleece for your churlish, if only a tad overweight, cousin Rick. You head to the sales section. Mounds of brightly colored fabric, every color and size imaginable, are clumped on tables previously used in your local butcher shop’s back room. You hungrily rifle through, searching for that perfect fit, when suddenly you hear it. Oh wow, is that Dean Martin? But wait! Is that a sizzling hip-hop beat?!? Almost immediately, you realize that this is the perfect fusion of musical styles, a safe and healthy way to get block-rocking crunk-ass beats while still hearing those lovely melodies of yesteryear. ‘Finally,’ you say, ‘I can talk to my children without it ending in severe aching depression.’

You forget the purple monstrosity and reach for your cell phone, the one your kids said you should own. As you feel around an empty pocket, you realize you left it in the car. Sprinting toward the door, a new sense of life courses through your veins. You make your way across the snow-dusted parking lot, ignoring shouts from the people you’re knocking over. Finally you reach the car and, fumbling with the keys, you unlock it and hop in. You grab your phone and start dialing, but just then, your finger stops. In the silence of your soundproof Lexus, your brain replays what you’ve just heard in the store. As quickly as you hear it, your stomach tears asunder and you vomit all over the dashboard. You spend the rest of your day crying in the car, asking yourself repeatedly: ‘What have I become?’

Rick never gets his tech vest.

This album was constructed solely for that brief moment in a person’s daily routine when a pair of orangey plaid dungarees looks good, a spandex waistline seems practical, and this music sounds relatively hip. Bonus points to will.i.am for showing us once again that his flair for riding coattails as safely as possible can never be overestimated.

Get Nat ‘King’ Cole records. Get hip-hop records. Play them separately.

Thanks for reading, and happy holidays.