I want to take a moment to wish you and your loved ones a truly joyful and Merry Christmas. This blogging journey wouldn’t be the same without you – that’s for sure!
To celebrate this year’s Christmas Day, I decided to do something different from my customary Christmas Day post – The Small One – A Christmas Story by Charles Tazewell (Narrated by Bing Crosby). Today’s post collates my Christmas Countdown of ten favourite Christmas songs and hymns which I originally presented as individual posts last year. Cheers everybody.
A happy quirk of the alphabetical sequence: we’ve just had my favourite female country voice in Alison Krauss, and now we arrive at my favourite male country voice, Don Williams. I’ve written before about how Don’s music played incessantly in our household while growing up west of Sydney, Australia. My father was a huge fan, and over the years I’ve become a keen follower as well.
Suffice to say, the man from Nashville – affectionately known as The Gentle Giant – has featured prominently here, although it’s been over a year since Don’s last appearance with Merle Haggard’s classic – Sing Me Back Home. Williams earned his nickname for his lanky frame, his calming voice – one that sounds as if he’s singing directly to the listener – and his modest demeanour. Fittingly, Alison Krauss once described his voice as “somewhere between Santa and the Almighty.”
The following is taken from a brilliant article by Arden Lambert at Country Thang Daily – an all-encompassing, everything-you-want-to-know piece on Till the Rivers All Run Dry:
During his prolific career, which started in the early 1970s, Williams parlayed that voice to 17 No. 1 hits, including Till The Rivers All Run Dry. The song was released in 1975 as the first single from his album Harmony. It became his fourth No. 1 on the country chart, and it stayed in that position for one week, spending a total of twelve weeks on the country charts.
Written by Don William along with Wayland Holyfield, the song sings about eternal love, and it’s described through the lyrics. “Till the rivers all run dry. Till the sun falls from the sky. Till life on earth is through, I’ll be needing you,” the song begins.
And though he makes her wonder sometimes, through the things he says or does, one thing is for sure – he needs her. After all, whether your life is falling into place or spinning out of your control, if you love someone, you’d definitely need her by your side.
With “Till The Rivers All Run Dry,” we’ve fully understood how Don Williams became a crowd favorite during his radio days, not only in the United States but also overseas. He has fans all over the world, from Ireland to England to Africa until he retired from touring in 2006.
Garth Fundis, his longtime producer, revealed that Williams has an uncanny judgment when it comes to picking hit songs. Fundis told Billboard that Williams “never let himself stray from what he felt about music. I think that’s where the consistency comes from. It had to work for him in a simple way.
He added, “Sometimes, we do orchestrations and get a lot of instruments going, but it was usually pretty simple. He always was the rudder that kept the bowel pointed in the right direction, to use a sailing term. It was wonderful how he could always take different kinds of songs, and by the time he was done with them, they all kind of fit together in a really wonderful way.”
Till the rivers all run dry Till the sun falls from the sky Till life on earth is through I’ll be needing you
I know sometimes you may wonder From little things I say and do But there’s no need for you to wonder If I need you, ’cause I’ll need you
Till the rivers all run dry Till the sun falls from the sky Till life on earth is through I’ll be needing you
Too many times I don’t tell you Too many things get in the way And even though sometimes I hurt you Still you show me, in every way
Till the rivers all run dry Till the sun falls from the sky Till life on earth is through I’ll be needing you
That man you see above – Austrian Johann Strauss II was arguably the biggest music star of his era in the 1870s. He was widely recognised as the undisputed king of the Viennese waltz. His portraits were sold in bookshops; jewellery stores stocked rings and brooches bearing his image; and even florists named bouquets after his waltzes. He was also laughing all the way to the bank – able to charge fees for single appearances that, in today’s terms, rival those of major pop stars.
But success didn’t come easily. Strauss worked relentlessly and struggled with bouts of exhaustion, anxiety, and recurring health problems throughout his life. Legend has it that while composing today’s featured music – Die Fledermaus, he worked for 43 days almost nonstop barely eating or sleeping – until the operetta was finished.
Die Fledermaus (The Bat), a classic operetta (or light opera), is built on a witty tale of intrigue, romance, and theatrical disguise, first cooked up by a pair of well-known French opera librettists. At its heart is a minor nobleman sentenced to eight days in prison for insulting a government official. Desperate to delay his punishment, he hatches a plan to postpone jail for just one night – long enough to enjoy an extravagant New Year’s celebration. When Johann Strauss II encountered the story, he asked his librettists Karl Haffner and Richard Genée to swap the dinner party for a lavish Viennese ball.
The operetta premiered on 5 April 1874 at the Theater an der Wien in Vienna and soon played in Berlin and was then brought back to Vienna. Since then it has never left the active repertory and many different arrangements have been produced, including a fiery take by the Ayoub Sisters.
In the article below, Hermione Laifrom Hong Kong recalls how her parents made her watch the Vienna Philharmonic’s New Year’s Concert every year (see image left). Over time, she noticed that certain selections by the undisputed king of the Viennese waltz, Johann Strauss Jr., appeared on the program year after year.
I loved to watch the golden hall, the beautifully dressed musicians, and specifically the ballet dancers. It was a world far removed from everyday Kowloon in Hong Kong, a fantasy world of dreams, really. And the music is simply out of this world; it is dancing and singing, celebrating and partying, and being completely carefree.
The following was abridged from the Wikipedia reference below: Strauss was born into a Catholic family near Vienna, Austria, on 25 October 1825, to the composer Johann Strauss I and his first wife, Maria Anna Streim. His paternal great-grandfather was a Hungarian Jew – a fact which the Nazis, who lionised Strauss’s music as “so German”, later tried to conceal.
He composed over 500 waltzes, polkas, quadrilles, and other types of dance music, as well as several operettas and a ballet. composed over 500 waltzes, polkas, quadrilles, and other types of dance music, as well as several operettas and a ballet.
Strauss came to the United States in 1872, where he took part in the World’s Peace Jubilee and International Musical Festival in Boston at the invitation of bandmaster Patrick Gilmore and was the lead conductor in a “Monster Concert” of over 1000 performers.
The whole Born in the USA album is choc-block full of rhetoric and romantic ideals of the carefree abandon and exhilaration of youth, but few are more pressure-cooked in just one song than No Surrender. Anyone who has tried their hand in a garage band, or just hung around at school listening to music, or been locked in a lover’s arms, or sprawled out in a field with friends, can relate to this song. Every line is a zinger, infectious drum beat, jangling guitar and The Boss belting it out. What a tune! This is how rock and roll is supposed to be.
Also consider these now-legendary lines that encapsulate perhaps better than any other on the whole record why it BITUSA became so popular and made Bruce a global mega-star (it a monster: Seven top 10 singles):
We learned more from a three-minute record, baby Than we ever learned in school
What’s mindboggling is No Surrender was only included on the album at the insistence of Steven Van Zandt, but eventually became a concert staple. Many people might know it best from the slower acoustic version acoustic performance (Live at Meadowlands Arena, E. Rutherford, NJ – August 1984) released on his Live/1975–85 is a live compilation box set. Fast or slow, the song works. The slower version, which many prefer, turns it into something more reflective, almost like it belongs on Nebraska. Those harmonica breaks in the acoustic take carry a deep sense of memory and longing, giving the song an entirely different weight.
The following was abridged from the Wikipedia reference below:
Though it was not one of the seven top ten hits of the album, No Surrender nevertheless charted on the Mainstream Rock chart, peaking at No. 29. During the 2004 United States presidential election John Kerry, the Democratic candidate and a fan of Springsteen, used the song as the main theme song for his campaign.
The song was played less and less towards the end of the Born in the USA tour. Springsteen wrote years later: “It was a song I was uncomfortable with. You don’t hold out and triumph all the time in life. You compromise, you suffer defeat; you slip into life’s gray areas.”
As of 14 April 2024, the song has been performed at 71 of 74 shows (96%) on the 2023-2024 International Tour. It was played at each of the tour’s initial 70 shows
[Verse 1] Well, we busted out of class Had to get away from those fools We learned more from a three-minute record, baby Than we ever learned in school Tonight, I hear the neighborhood drummer sound I can feel my heart begin to pound You say you’re tired and you just want to close your eyes And follow your dreams down
[Chorus] Well, we made a promise we swore we’d always remember No retreat, baby, no surrender Like soldiers in the winter’s night with a vow to defend No retreat, baby, no surrender
[Verse 2] Well, now young faces grow sad and old And hearts of fire grow cold We swore blood brothers against the wind I’m ready to grow young again And hear your sister’s voice calling us home Across the open yards Well, maybe we’ll cut someplace of our own With these drums and these guitars
[Verse 3] Now, on the street tonight, the lights grow dim The walls of my room are closing in There’s a war outside still raging You say it ain’t ours anymore to win I want to sleep beneath peaceful skies In my lover’s bed With a wide open country in my eyes And these romantic dreams in my head
Today’s featured track is another stunning contribution by Alison Krauss. Her voice holds an ethereal beauty that is simply unparalleled. She possesses quite simply my favourite female country singer voice – there’s not even a close second. She also has that wholesome, girl-next-door beauty, can play a mean fiddle, and has picked up 27 Grammy Awards along the way. The whole package, really. I regret to admit I only came familiar with her music in recent years.
There are more versions of today’s song, Till I Gain Control Again, than you can poke a stick at, but it won’t surprise you that my favourite is Alison’s. I forwarded below her live performance at The Life & Songs of Emmylou Harris concert in 2016. The song is most known (according to Wikipedia) by the No. 1 single version recorded by Crystal Gayle on her 1982 album, True Love. Although Alison’s live version has 2.2 million views on You Tube compared to Crystal’s 203 thousand and Emmylou’s 792 thousand. I highly recommend the 1993 version from Canadian country rock band Blue Rodeo (2 million views), which I’ll put at the end of this post.
Most of the following was abridged from the Wikipedia below:
‘Till I Gain Control Again was written by Rodney Crowell and originally recorded by Emmylou Harris in 1975. Crowell was hanging out with noted songwriters Townes Van Zandt, Guy Clark, and Steve Runkle, and wanted to show his own songwriting skill. In retrospect, Crowell expresses regret at rhyming “been” with “can” in the lyric “What you’ve seen is what I’ve been/There is nothing I could hide from you/You see me better than I can.” Had he written the song later in his career, Crowell says he would have spent time to find a hard rhyme. Crowell marvels when people tell him this song is their favorite of his. Crowell’s version was released on his third (self titled) album in 1981.
[Verse 1] Just like the sun over the mountain tops You know I’ll always come again You know I love to spend my morning times Like sunlight dancing on your skin
[Verse 2] I’ve never gone so wrong as for telling lies to you What you’ve seen is what I’ve been There is nothing I could hide from you You see me better than I can
[Chorus] Out on the road that lies before me now There are some turns where I will spin I only hope that you can hold me now Till I can gain control again
[Verse 3] Like a lighthouse, you must stand alone Landmark a sailor’s journey’s end No matter what seas I have been sailing on I’ll always roll this way again
[Chorus] Out on the road that lies before me now There are some turns where I will spin I only hope that you can hold me now Till I can gain control again
A lot of music from the Moonstruck soundtrack has featured here, but today’s short piece is the first one written directly for the movie by jazz pianist and composer Dick Hyman (image inset), with Moe Koffman on alto saxophone. Once upon a time, if you had asked me what was so special about this 1:46 piece, I might have said it was just cocktail-lounge filler from an otherwise magnificent soundtrack. But over the decades my appreciation of it has only grown. I won’t pretend nostalgia hasn’t played a part in that.
As the title suggests, [In Loretta’s Bedroom] Gettin’ Ready plays during the scene where Loretta (Cher), a widowed Italian-American woman, is getting ready to go out to see La bohème (the opera by Giacomo Puccini) with her fiancé’s hot-tempered, estranged younger brother, played by Nicolas Cage. Make no bones about it – this piece is very much a product of its time and place. You can hear New York’s 1980s cocktail-bar nightlife running right through it, with a smooth, sensual jazz feel typical of what you might have heard heading out in that era. It also sends me back to another stylish New York film made just a few years earlier – Tootsie, of course.
Moe Koffamn
Not just a neat snapshot of time and place, the sensual, slightly mysterious alto saxophone (played by Moe Koffman) tells you almost everything you need to know about Loretta’s sassy, sultry, and brash character. You can feel her anticipation building as she gets ready for the night ahead and the opera to come. This short, distilled piece probably won’t still be played in a hundred years like La bohème, but it works perfectly as a small time capsule – sharply capturing a character, a moment, and a very specific New York mood.
I first heard Indiana Road through Christian’s post The Sunday Six in February 2025. It stopped me in my tracks. This is pure country-rock storytelling – long, slow-burning, and unapologetically rough around the edges.
The song tells the story of a Canadian farmer and his partner living through hard times. A government official turns up and tells them they must leave their land so it can be turned into a holiday park. The narrator pushes back, threatening to meet the man with a gun in his hand out on Indiana Road. But the confrontation never happens. The official backs away, saying he won’t sink that low. What’s left is the fallout: the farmer’s partner heads back to Calgary to be with her family, and in time she disappears from his life altogether. The narrator ends up alone, drifting into a kind of self-imposed exile.
Indiana Road reminds me of the long-form songs Neil Young would later return to – Ramada Inn and Clementine come to mind – especially in the vocal delivery, the story-telling and melody. What’s striking is that Eaglesmith did this years earlier. The music in Indiana Road is raw and biting and the instruments grind and scrape along with the story, matching the anger and frustration in the lyrics.
Eaglesmith is described as an alternative country songwriter, and that label fits here. Indiana Road, the title track of his third album, touches on many themes he returns to again and again: rural life, old vehicles, people on the fringe, love that slips away, and lives shaped by bad luck and hard choices. Eaglesmith, one of nine children, was raised by a farming family near Guelph in rural Southern Ontario. He began playing the guitar at age 12.
Well me and the girl we had a little farm south of the river road A little single shack and some cattle in the barn and we grew our own food Didn’t have any money, but it never crossed our minds We grew to share and we were happy there just watching the years go by Until one day I come home there was a big black car parked out by my backdoor And a government man with a fat cigar said we couldn’t live there anymore Said they’d pay us for the land but never for the work we did And they were gonna turn it in to a holiday park and a drag-strip for the kids
I told him, I would meet him on the Indiana road with a gun in my hand but he never showed Said he couldn’t bring himself to sink himself that low I told him, I would meet him on the Indiana road with a gun in my hand but he never showed He went back to Ottawa or Toronto or wherever it is they go
Well we wired ahead and the girl’s family said to come back to Calgary We decided that she would go on back there without me And I’ll never forget those tears in her eyes as I held her face in my hand I turned around and I headed for town and I never looked back again
I told him, I would meet him on the Indiana road with a gun in my hand but he never showed Said he couldn’t bring himself to sink himself that low I told him, I would meet him on the Indiana road with a gun in my hand but he never showed He went back to Ottawa or Toronto or wherever it is they go
Now I live in an old Ford van at the end of a dead end road And the girl she stopped sending letters must be seven years or more Me, I, spend a lot of time down on the Indiana ya know And I draw a bead but there ain’t no need I don’t shoot anymore
I told him, I would meet him on the Indiana road with a gun in my hand but he never showed Said he couldn’t bring himself to sink himself that low I told him, I would meet him on the Indiana road with a gun in my hand but he never showed He went back to Ottawa or Toronto or wherever it is they go He went back to Ottawa or Toronto or wherever it is they go He went back to Ottawa or Toronto or wherever it is they go
We return to one of Bob Dylan’s most impactful political songs, Only a Pawn in Their Game. You could be forgiven for thinking you’re listening to the gravelly voice of a world-weary old man, but Dylan was just 22 years old when he wrote it, calmly dissecting racism, class, and political blame.
The song was written in the summer of 1963, following the assassination of civil rights leader Medgar Evers on June 12, 1963. Its first major performance came at the Newport Folk Festival, July 26, 1963. Two other notable live performances are worth mentioning: its first public performance on July 6, 1963, when Dylan appeared at a voter registration rally in Greenwood, Mississippi, and later at the March on Washington on August 28, 1963.
Dylan included the song on The Times They Are A-Changin’, released in February 1964. There it sits alongside its thematic companion on Side Two, The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll, which Dylan wrote a few months later in October 1963. Together, the songs form the album’s moral backbone.
As a teenager, I was deeply immersed in Dylan’s music, and I could sense it shaping my outlook and values beyond the family bubble. These two songs stood out because they felt as real as music could get: they dealt with real people and real news, exposing injustice without softening the blow. This was Dylan openly aligning himself with African Americans during the Civil Rights Movement.
When he sang these songs, he sounded angry and affected. He wasn’t just performing lyrics; he was bearing witness. At times it felt closer to a eulogy or a sermon than a folk song. The music became secondary, almost spare by design, allowing the words to sit front and centre while everything else quietly fell into the background.
Lyrics (Wikipedia)
The lyrics attribute blame for the killing and other racial violence to the rich white politicians and authorities who manipulated poor whites into directing their anger and hatred at black people. The song suggests that Evers’s killer does not deserve to be remembered by name in the annals of history, unlike the man he murdered (“They lowered him down as a king”), because he was “only a pawn in their game.”.
The lyrics actually reiterate the claim that the murderer “can’t be blamed. He’s only a pawn in their game.” In fact, the state twice prosecuted the murderer in 1964, but each time the all white jury failed to reach a verdict. Dylan no longer played the song after October 1964. In 1969 the murderer had the original indictment dismissed. However, when these first trials were shown to be held unfairly and with new evidence available the murderer was eventually found guilty on February 5, 1994.
[Verse 1] A bullet from the back of a bush took Medgar Evers’ blood A finger fired the trigger to his name A handle hid out in the dark A hand set the spark Two eyes took the aim Behind a man’s brain But he can’t be blamed He’s only a pawn in their game
[Verse 2] A south politician preaches to the poor white man “You got more than the blacks, don’t complain You’re better than them, you been born with white skin,” they explain And the Negro’s name Is used, it is plain For the politician’s gain As he rises to fame And the poor white remains On the caboose of the train But it ain’t him to blame He’s only a pawn in their game
[Verse 3] The deputy sheriffs, the soldiers, the governors get paid And the marshals and cops get the same But the poor white man’s used in the hands of them all like a tool He’s taught in his school From the start by the rule That the laws are with him To protect his white skin To keep up his hate So he never thinks straight ‘Bout the shape that he’s in But it ain’t him to blame He’s only a pawn in their game
[Verse 4] From the poverty shacks, he looks from the cracks to the tracks And the hoof beats pound in his brain And he’s taught how to walk in a pack Shoot in the back, with his fist in a clinch To hang and to lynch To hide ‘neath the hood To kill with no pain Like a dog on a chain He ain’t a-got no name But it ain’t him to blame He’s only a pawn in their game
[Verse 5] Today, Medgar Evers was buried from the bullet he caught They lowered him down as a king But when the shadowy sun sets on the one that fired the gun He’ll see by his grave On the stone that remains Carved next to his name His epitaph plain Only a pawn in their game
Two years ago, almost to the day, I wrote about the soundtrack to the Spanish film Sin Fin (Not the End), composed by Sergio de la Puente (pictured inset). As part of my ongoing Music Library Project, my favourite track from that score – Tienes Que Darle Cuerda (“You Have to Wind It Up”) – comes up in the alphabetical order listing – so here we are today.
IMDb storyline: Javier travels back in time to rewrite his last date with María, the love of his life. By revisiting the moment they first met, he hopes to restore the happiness she once had – and in doing so, to fall in love with her all over again.
The trailer (linked here) works nicely as an appetiser – there are no subtitles, but you quickly get a feel for the mood, characters, and emotional stakes before turning to the music itself. Tienes Que Darle Cuerda is a quietly stunning romantic piece. It builds patiently, like a great dam holding back emotion, before finally gushing open near the end, only to return to where it began. It’s a piece I can play on repeat – no problem. My only criticism is it is about 3 minutes too short. All the more baffling, then, that at the time of writing it has attracted just 1,500 views on YouTube. If you like Tienes Que Darle Cuerda, you can also listen to another lovely piece below which draws on the same melody but more guitar format and unfolds at a slower tempo, titled Dame un Día (Give Me a Day).
Sergio de la Puente is a Spanish composer best known for his work in film and television. He began his musical career as a guitarist and producer before moving into composition, where he developed a strong interest in atmospheric and emotional storytelling through music. His scores often blend orchestral textures with subtle electronic elements, focusing more on mood and feeling than overt spectacle. De la Puente has composed music for a wide range of Spanish films, series, and documentaries, with Sin Fin standing out as one of his most emotionally restrained and intimate works.
1973 is an unusual but easygoing pop song built around nostalgia. The English recording artist James Blunt looks back on his club-going days, remembering Saturday nights spent with his muse, Simona, as youth, music and time all ran together. I was hesitant to include it at first – it felt a little like James Blunt on autopilot – but the song has grown on me over the last year or so. Hearing it again this morning, I caught myself singing along and it has a warmth that sneaks up on you. Fittingly, given the title, there’s a slightly retro feel to the groove, capturing the late night boogying, and staying out until the early hours.
1973 is also not a typical Blunt song. There’s no big, high-pitched power ballad here, and none of the bathroom sobbing of Goodbye My Lover. Instead, 1973 moves along at an upbeat but relaxed pace, with a reflective tone rather than a sad one. The song looks back on the years that have passed and quietly acknowledges how time changes us. The Saturday-night girl no longer seems to be part of his life, as Blunt admits: “Simona, I guess it’s over / My memory plays our tune / The same old song.” It feels less like heartbreak and more like accepting that those days are now in the past.
The following was abridged from the Wikipedia article below:
1973 was released as the lead single (see inset) from his second studio album, All the Lost Souls (2007). The single peaked at number four on the UK Singles Chart. It was written by James Blunt and Mark Batson. “He was trying to write an English singer-songwriter song, and I was trying the Dr. Dre end of the scale“, says Blunt. The song was inspired by the club scene in Ibiza (a Spanish island in the Mediterranean Sea), where Blunt maintains a residence and enjoys the social scene.
The video below (directed by Paul R Brown), in which a modern-day Blunt strolls among ’70s street scenes, reflects the song’s nostalgic tone. “The ’70s sound like they were a time of excess and great flamboyance“, he says, “but a sense of fun as well.” The video was shot in the Universal Studios Lot in Los Angeles.
[Verse 1] Simona You’re getting older Your journey’s been Etched on your skin Simona Wish I had known that What seemed so strong Has been and gone
[Chrous] I would call you up every Saturday night And we’d both stay out ’til the morning light And we sang “Here we go again.” And though time goes by I will always be in a club with you in 1973 Singing “Here we go again.”
[Verse 2] Simona Wish I was sober So I could see clearly now The rain has gone Simona I guess it’s over My memory plays our tune The same old song
[Chorus] I would call you up every Saturday night And we’d both stay out ’til the morning light And we sang “Here we go again.” And though time goes by I will always be in a club with you in 1973 Singing “Here we go again.” I would call you up every Saturday night And we’d both stay out ’til the morning light And we sang “Here we go again.” And though time goes by I will always be in a club with you in 1973 Singing “Here we go again.” I would call you up every Saturday night And we’d both stay out ’til the morning light And we sang “Here we go again.” And though time goes by I will always be in a club with you in 1973 Singing “Here we go again.”
[Outro] And though time goes by I will always be in a club with you in 1973
Observation Blogger 