Tis The Season - John Fahey :: “Christmas With John Fahey Vol. II”
It is that time of year again, another full rotation around the holy heat of the sun. Anything you regret is officially in the past, while everything you dare desire now lies at your feet in a cold embrace. The holidays are a special and most sacred time, especially Christmas Eve. Where the future and present share a seat at the great table of love and labor, forgiveness, musical memory, and total connection, a song is cast into the deep flames from one of the most talentedly possessed musicians and tonal trailblazers of our time, the late and great John Fahey. Born John Aloysius Fahey to parents of musical mesmerization, Fahey studied Philosophy and religion, elements reflected and echoed in his music from 1959’s monumental debut “Blind Joe Death” to the later years of “Hitomi” before his untimely passing, the late musician would eventually continue his esoteric studies on the West Coast in the early 1960s, where he absorbed and thrived in the influences of Pete Seeger and the flourishing folk scene that was beginning to take over on both coasts. His story is tragic as much as it is tonally triumphant, but that is a whole other story for perhaps a different time and season in life. The blazing notes consistently captivate while simultaneously highjacking the dense narrative in one fair swoop, causing a great disturbance in the room as night falls onto the little town of Salem, OR, moments before the ultimate morning unfolds into a mighty roar of joy, song, dance, and cosmic celebration.
“Well, the arrangements are pretty good, but on the other hand there are more mistakes on this album than on any of the other 17 albums I’ve recorded. And yet, here’s the paradox… this album has not only sold more than any of my others, I meet people all the time who are crazy about it. I mean really love it. What can I say. I’m confused.”
Having conceived five Christmas-related albums, the holidays hold a very familiar foundation when referring to Fahey’s ravaging catalog, both in the mysticism of life and the universal sigh of the world’s holy woes. But Christmas held an obvious connection to the late musician’s heart, and with the incredible success of 1968’s “The New Possibility: John Fahey's Guitar Soli Christmas Album,” perhaps one of Fahey’s most popular releases to date, the next installment, though some years later, continued to expand the already eagerness and excitement while exploring the harmonious DNA of the holidays the only way Fahey knew how, through his iconic instrumentation under a candle lit, seasonal seance. From holy transformation to youthful yonder into the ruby red and emerald green landscape, Fahey transcends in his most typical fashion, but this time honoring the historical harmonies from the likes of Irving Berlin, Adolphe Adam, John Sullivan Dwight, and the unknown traditionalists of the past. Where eggnog sits and spoils to the consistency of chestnuts roasting during a convincing conversation between Santa and everyone’s favorite, Krampus, something slightly spooky resides, just waiting to be unearthed in all its gracious glory.
The album’s seven tracks tell the story of seasonal significance, like most Christmas classics, 1975’s “Christmas with John Fahey Vol. II” may not be on your wish list or playlist, but with its remarkable climate and irresistible instrumentation, especially on numbers like "Christmas Fantasy: Part One and Two,” and Berlin’s magnum opus, “White Christmas,” Fahey enlightens the essence of the ghostly gospel with his seasonal sorcery alongside the decorated duets from Richard Ruskin on a most sacred collection of music. Recorded at United/Western Recording in Hollywood, Fahey worked and collaborated with producer and engineer Doug Decker and Bruce Leek, famously known for his efforts with Captain Beefheart and Gram Parsons, the album’s cover sported yet another fabulously iconic cover from the Mosaic mind of Stephanie Pyren, “Christmas with John Fahey Vol. II” stands on its own by guiding the strung-out reverb through the veins of everyone, whether you’ve been naughty or nice.
