Music of Christmases past shows multiple meaning of art

Seems like we Boomers can’t go too long without observing the 50-year anniversary of some event from the 1960s. That is especially true if you are a fan of the Beatles, a group whose career more or less spanned that decade.

The media has recently reminded me that back in 1968 the band released its double album “The Beatles,” or as it is usually known, “The White Album.” What a great Christmas present that was for us Beatlemaniacs back in those days.

It recently was reissued—just in time for Christmas—with added tracks, information and whatnot. Many fans say it is their favorite if only because it has twice as many songs as the others. It would be impossible for me to narrow down my favorite Beatles’ album, but I do have a recording by the Fab Four I used to listen to especially and specifically at Christmas.

When the group first became a pop phenomenon in Great Britain, a special promotional record was mailed to some loyal fans. This 45 rpm disc was not available to the general public, but only to official members of the Beatles Fan Club. The first one was issued in 1963 (before the Ed Sullivan Show and their conquest of the states) and continued to come out each year until 1969. This was just before the members of the band called it quits.

As the post-Beatles years passed, I occasionally would hear on the radio one of the legendary Christmas records. In the late 1980s when I was still haunting record stores, I came across a CD, “The Beatles Complete Christmas Collection 1963-1969.”

I bought it, of course. After that I found myself using it as my Christmas present wrapping music.

It became a ritual. I would gather the gifts I had purchased for family and friends, go into a room and close the door. With paper, scissors, tape and the other gift-wrapping accoutrements, I would sit on the floor decorating presents and writing cards while in the background John, Paul, George and Ringo made jokes and played music to their fans.

I did that for at least a dozen Christmases until one year I didn’t. I’m not even sure why or when I stopped. Maybe things were happening in my life that made the ritual unimportant. Maybe I was in a rush or under high holiday stress. Maybe I just forgot about it. At any rate, last week my memory was jogged when a line from one of the Christmas records crept into a phone chat with my musical partner Retro Dan.

“Garry Crimble to you,” was the first line of a John Lennon bit on the 1963 record where he puts “Christmas” lyrics to the tune of “Happy Birthday.”

After we hung up, I thought about the Christmas presents I had not yet wrapped and the Beatles CD I hadn’t listened to for many years and knew what I had to do. As I stood in the basement wrapping and listening to the chronological holiday greetings from the Beatles, I heard things I hadn’t noticed before.

On the first record (1963) I heard a group of jubilant youthful musicians who were still reeling from their incredible success as a group. On the next two records, the excitement was still there, but a hint of road weariness had crept in. As the records and years continued, there was an occasional sense of them going through the motions of being “The Beatles.” On the final record, I heard four individuals who had grown so apart as a band they had recorded their “Christmas greetings” literally separated from each other.

Thinking later, I saw that taken together these Christmas records could be understood as a montage of the rise and fall of The Beatles, or, on another level, this could be read as a template of how relationships can rise and fall. Then I remembered that art can and should have multiple meanings.

On this run-up to Christmas, I decided to listen to the Beatles as creative and funny and to think of them as a major touchstone of my life. I think it’s time to re-start the Christmas tradition.

Garry Crimble to you all.