There are few things in popular culture as divisive as Christmas music. The mere mention of the topic tends to create two factions in an otherwise amenable group; one party feels as though they must come up with progressively more exaggerated metaphors to express their loathing for anything resembling a sleigh bell, the other side would be happy to spend their lives in a marshmallow world of roasting chestnuts, leaping lords, and sugar plum fairies.
As for me, I love Christmas music. Which shouldn’t come as a surprise, given that I’m writing this article. I love music generally, and while I’m hugely opinionated and can find lots to complain about in entertainment, I can also find plenty to appreciate within any given genre. So while there’s a good amount of holiday music that leaves me cold, there’s also a lot of wonderful, amazing examples of the form – most of which will never be heard on your local Adult Contemporary FM station’s 24/7 Holiday rotation. I mean, I certainly have love for the well-executed Holiday standards: Nat King Cole, Sinatra, Andy Williams, John Denver & The Muppets, The Beach Boys, et al – but I don’t feel the need to talk about it, because you’ve doubtless heard it before. What I’m going to discuss here isn’t, for the most part, music you’ll run across the mall or the supermarket. This is the off-beat, the weird, the wonderful flip side of the seasonal songbook.
And I’ll start with a look at what is probably my favorite overlooked sub-genre of Holiday music: the Mexicali-Christmas cash-in record!
Short history lesson: in the mid-late ’60s, Herb Alpert And The Tijuana Brass were one of the best-selling acts in America. They were fun, swingin’, and totally ubiquitous. Alpert had heard a mariachi band while vacationing in Mexico, and upon returning to the US, adopted that sound to create a new form of quasi-latin pop. This new style was an instant sensation, instantly identifiable and easily imitated – and as a result, all manner of semi-scrupulous record companies raced to get a piece of the pie. A number of hastily assembled ensembles put on sombreros and ponchos, picked up their horns and marimbas, and raced to the recording studio.
So predictably, when the Tijuana Brass Christmas Album was released in 1968 and shot straight to #1 on the Billboard charts, there was an immediate flood of similar seasonal recordings. Before too long, shelves were swamped with releases recasting seasonal carols in south-of-the-border style.
And to me, the strangest thing about this entire phenomenon is that the majority of these knock-offs are far more entertaining than the album they were modeled on. Because while I generally love me some Herb Alpert, his holiday offering is pretty lousy; Christmas Album dispenses with much of the cheesy glee that the Tijuana Brass had made their stock-in-trade, and replaces it with an uptight strings-and-choir vibe that does nobody any favors. Alpert brought in west coast Jazz legend Shorty Rogers to handle the arrangements, and while it may have seemed like a good idea, the combination ends up being far less than the sum of its parts. The usual Tijuana Brass muted trumpet sound is still in evidence, but it’s swaddled in a mass of soulless violin arrangements, earnestly harmonizing voices, and even a few pedestrian lead vocals by Alpert himself. The tempos creep along at a snail’s pace. Of the entire album, only ‘Winter Wonderland’ and ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ come close to the slicked-up whimsy of Alpert’s best pop work, and those two tracks had already seen release (without their syrupy vocal intros) on a Holiday compilation that Alpert assembled for A&M Records. The rest of the tunes aren’t bad, but they’re also not interesting – it seems like Alpert is phoning it in, and the overall vibe is oddly somber.
The rip-off artists, however, showed no such restraint, leaving no cactus unturned while mixing sunny Cancun and snowy North Pole vibes, cranking out the product to hit shelves in time for the holiday season. While Alpert seemed to be reaching for some sort of artistic legitimacy, the various impostors sound like they were simply collecting an easy paycheck and having some fun. And that fun is infectious.
The record companies, not being content with simply rushing product to the market and hoping that undiscerning customers would pick up anything mentioning “Tijuana” and “Christmas” in the same space, maximized their earnings by packaging a few of these soundalike records multiple times, under different cover art, on newly invented record labels, credited to different fictional acts.
Probably the best-known of these albums is Tijuana Christmas by The Border Brass. This title was originally issued on vinyl in a few variations: the most common edition is all-instrumental and sports a cover with a rainbow border and a googly-eyed trumpeter, but there’s also a vocal edition that exists in two different pressings, one credited to The Border Brass And Singers, the other credited to Tijuana Voices With Brass – this version supplements the Alpert-esque horn licks with a super-slick caroling chorale. Thankfully, the vocalists make no attempt to adopt accents, and instead settle into a glossy Bacharachian groove that fits nicely with the refried trumpeting. After listening to both, I’ve developed a slight preference for the instrumental version, but your mileage may vary depending on whether you favor overdubbed voices or tacked-on maracas. Much of it is Mexploitation-by-numbers, but there’s a few really outstanding tracks – the harpsichord-fueled ‘What Child Is This’, the bouncy romp of ‘Deck The Halls’, and the pseudo-rumba interpretation of ‘Jolly Old St. Nicholas’.
Both the vocal version and the instrumental version (credited to “Bugs” Bower) of Tijuana Christmas are available to download from Amazon.
Another album titled Tijuana Christmas Party was released around the same time on Canadian label Arc Sound Ltd., this one credited to Bobby Duvalle. And while it may not be the most spectacular representative of the genre, there are certainly some high points (the bombastic ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ and the peppy jingle bell-driven ‘White Christmas’ in particular).
The anonymous act known as The Mexicali Brass actually released their first disc of Christmas-themed tunes a couple years before Alpert took a crack at it himself, and then followed it up with another record of chime/brass/maraca tinsel tunes in late 1968, and both are perfectly fun and competent. The group seems to delight in including nods to Herb Alpert hits within their renditions, so ‘Jingle Bells’ echoes the iconic trumpet riffs of ‘Spanish Flea’, ‘The First Noel’ bears a passing resemblance to ‘Whipped Cream’, and so on. And the moments in which they attempt to strike out in their own directions are pretty amusing: the wild brass-and-bells fanfare of ‘Deck The Halls’ is so over-the-top, I can’t help but enjoy it, and their run through ‘Go Tell It On The Mountain’ gives the gospel standard a marimba makeover that shouldn’t work, but totally does.
The first TMB Xmas album, Jingle Bells, was reissued in 1968 with new cover art, retitled as Christmas With The Mexicali Brass. Both Jingle Bells/Christmas With and its follow-up Winter Wonderland are available on Amazon.
George Garabedian was the man behind Mark 56 Records, a label based in Southern California that specialized in producing Herb Alpert soundalikes and commercial tie-in records. So inevitably, after Alpert’s seasonal selection hit paydirt, he cranked out two Tijuana Christmas volumes as promotional items for Phillips 66 gas stations. Volume 1 kicks off with a ‘Jingle Bells’ that mines a similar inspiration to The Mexicali Brass’s version, but takes it a few steps further – not just echoing the riffs from ‘Spanish Flea’, but practically recreating the entire arrangement. The rest of the album stretches out a bit, and applies a standard brass/marimba/percussion approach to a mix of carols that dance from mellow to mid tempo; highlights include a chiming ‘Santa Claus, Santa Claus’ and a cheerful bop through ‘Let It Snow, Let It Snow’. Volume 2 is another matter, however. Side One kicks off with an uninspired cover of Alpert’s ‘Tijuana Taxi’, then rolls out another five original/obscure tunes with no connection to the holiday season beyond their titles – Side Two contains versions of actual Christmas-themed material, but lacks any trace of Mexican flavor, instead consisting of chorus-and-strings recitations that lack both vitality and individuality.
The budget label Diplomat issued a number of albums credited to The Monterey Brass, and the holiday-themed one is both kitschy and cool – the tracklist is rather bizarre (‘Mama Santa’s Surprise’?), and the arrangements feature some really nice instrumental harmonies and percussive flourishes. Highlights include a piano-and-guitar-driven strut through ‘Silent Night’, a languid take on ‘Hark The Herald Angels Sing’, and a swingtastic little number called ‘Christmas Candy’.
The Monterey Brass’ Christmas Brass isn’t currently in print in its original form, all the music is available to download from Amazon – though the album is credited to Stan Reynolds & His Orchestra/Laurie JohoNson & His Orchestra [sic], features generic and nondescript artwork, and includes two extra (non-mariachi-styled) tracks included at the end, which may or may not be by the same artists.
I’ve saved my favorite for last. Credited to The Toreador Brass in the US and The Torero Band in the UK, Tijuana Christmas (later reissued without artist attribution as Christmas Carols Tijuana Style) is the hands-down winner of the Mexi-nativity sweepstakes. The original cover art gives an indication that we’ve got something special on our hands: a sandals-and-sombrero-clad Santa Claus holds a trumpet and grins broadly, while reclining in a gold-trimmed throne. And the music inside lives up to expectations: the jaunty reinvention of ‘Good Kind Wenceslas’, the bachelor-pad groove-alongs of ‘The First Noel’ and ‘The Holly And The Ivy’, the mirthful rendering of ‘God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen’, the mellow and atmospheric take on ‘Once In Royal David’s City’, and best of all, the churchbells-and-bolero variation on a theme of ‘O Little Town Of Bethlehem’.
This album is available to download from Amazon, credited to The Torero Band, and expanded with an additional eight tunes of unknown provenance.
In all, I think the best thing about this brand of Christmas music is how well the central elements fit together, despite their apparent disconnect – the “Mexican” style of the performances is every bit as inauthentic and invented as the mythology of a mystical red-suited overgrown elf and his caribou with a fluorescing snout. The soft trumpets and jingling bells span the divide, the over-the-top sentimentality of the music is a perfect fit for the pageantry of the season, and what results is a blend of culture-clash jollity that somehow makes perfect emotional sense. And aside from Alpert’s own initial offering, there’s not a trace of seriousness to be found on these records. They are 1000% celebratory, the perfect soundtrack to transform any staid holiday gathering into a festive faux-fiesta, conjuring up a wondrous dreamland of tinsel-draped cacti and candycane margaritas.