12 Days of Christmas Music, part 1: baby it's creepy outside

It's a tradition for my wife and I, pretty much starting Thanksgiving day, to tune all radios to the holiday music stations and leave them locked.  I'm not sure why, but probably since we adore the holidays, our brains have adapted to tolerate the otherwise mind-numbing repetition of the 60 or so songs that play this time of year.  (I'll have to add it to my list of superpowers)
Not that I'm not sick of some of the songs (especially the one that talks about telling "scary ghost stories' at Christmas), but most have their charm and I listen away.
Now, Baby it's cold outside is a different story.
The concept is cute enough - I won't say innocent enough - Guy wants girl to stay the night, she's willing, but needs nudging, convincing or at least a plausable way to deny to friends, family and coworkers she's not a skank.  And if executed right, it could be a fantastic kind of Rat Pack throwback song.  If executed right.
Which it never is!
But damned if everyone, since the movie Elf came out, isn't trying to bring it back and make it work.  The problem is, everything in this song must come together perfectly or it comes off just plain creepy.
Problem 1: "Say, what's in this drink?"  Yep, it's hard to update a standard when some of the lyrics clearly imply date rape!  It's 2008, for Santa's sake.  The lyric might as well be, "Hey, how'd I get here?  Who the hell are you?"   Baby there's roofies in there.
Problem 2: This girl has some nosy friends, neighbors and family.  Nott to mention that she apparently lives at home with her parents, brother and sister.  What the Hell!  How old is this girl?!
Problem 3:The guy.  He needs to be unassuming, ("hey, it's cool if you go girl, but neither of us wants that") kinda cocky, and charming with an eyedropper dose of innocent.  Instead, we get guys like  Tom Jones bringing a whole new meaning to lecherous and creepy.  Or we get emo guys who sound too whiny; like that sympathy date who doesn't want his one chance (which he blew hours ago) to end.  You can hear him whine, "but baybeeee, it's cooooold outside... please ... I just want to hold you ..."  some guys get it, but then try to simply act like they're a cool 50s guy.  Brian Setzer, Harry Connic Jr. I'm talking to you!
Problem 4: the pairings.  Why do people think it's cool to pair singers 30-90 years apart in age.  Alan Cumming & Liza Minelli, Michael Buble and Anne Murray, Zooey Deschanel and Leon Redbone (Really? Leon Redbone?!).  Gross, gross, gross!  Even when they're similar in age there's a whole new kind of yuk.  Rod Stewart and Dolly Parton.  Oh God, I don't want to picture those two drunk and gropey by a roaring fire.
Then there's the particularly uncomfortable version by Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson.  It is painful.  She sounds like she just learned the song through Hooked on Phonics, and listeining to him, you can almost imagine the desperation in his voice as he begged her not to divorce him, "How can you do this thing to me ..."    Makes me shudder.  poor Nick.
Turns out the best version i can find is in the aforementioned Elf.  Not, of course the one on the soundtrack.  That's the creepy one with Leon Freaking Redbone!  The last singer alive who thinks that "ba bababa boo" is still a legitimate song lyric.  But for 45 seconds of the movie there's Zooey Deschanel channeling Ann Margaret, singing in the shower with an impish Will Ferrell almost lazily singing the male lead.  The song is interrupted, when she discovers him, but for a second it's the best version I've heard.  Did they rerecord it for the soundtrack.  No.
But until someone finds me a better version, that's all I've got.
This is why people are depressed during the holidays.

The Golden Age of Hip Hop

All forms of modern music: Country, Punk, Soul, R&B and Pop, have had their different eras, highs and lows, narrow and diverse periods. Country, for example seems to hit this boom every 10 years and then fade until the next one. Hip Hop, while younger, is no different.
Now, I understand ... maybe we all love best the music we remember, but it's hard to argue that any era of Hip Hop had more diversity, more potential for the genre than the few short years of the early 90s. 92-94, to be specific.

By 1992, Rap had shed many of the wannabes. No more Vanilla Ice on the airwaves, no pop superstar had yet stepped into Mc Hammer's glossy shoes. And yet, hip hop was making a bigger impact than ever. And, like never before, (or since) it could be anything it wanted to.

Tribe, De La Soul and Digable Planets on the rap side and US3 and Lucas (with the lid off) on the dance side were fusing hip hop with jazz. Digable planets made a hit just doing straight ol' beebop, and it worked! It was almost too much cool for one song. (Had they spread out the cool, maybe they could have had another hit, I guess)

Setting the stage for the Fugees and the Roots, Arrested Development was unapologetically afrocentric and still loved by all. Seriously. Girls named Dawn, Ashley and Becky were tossing up a fist, singing "Revolution." Maybe they didn't know why, but that was OK. It was too good not to. Who doesn't sing along to "People Everyday?"

Other alternative hip hop groups: Disposable Heroes of Hiphopricy & Me Phi Me brought the straight peaceful message, while the Geto Boys gave us nightmares about Halloween, necrophilia (and later, fax machines).

Some experiments were more um... experimental than others. "Hey let's fuze skate rock and rap!" (Urban Dance Squad), "Hey let's put some bagpipes in it!," "Hey, how about Tammy Wynette!," "Hey, let's all do the Bartman!"

Lighter Shade of Brown and N2Deep were still keeping the latino rap candle lit before it blew out for 12 years. Nice.

New Jack Swing was king. Hail Tony!, Toni!, and Tone'!. Long live SWV, TLC, BBD and the rising queen, Mary J.

C&C Music Factory & their wannabees gave us more hip-hop dance songs than we knew what to do with. And they'll play at weddings for the next 100 years.

Kid & Play had left us, but Heavy D was still around. Rap was party: This is How We Do It, Summertime, Ditty. Rap was soul: This DJ, Back in the Day. It was was Shaking Rumps and Tootsie Rolls. Whoomp! and Whoot! There it was. "I got a man." "I'm not tryin to hear that, see!"

Will Sm-Ahem! The Fresh Prince was its jester. Public Enemy was its conscience.

Before Limp Bizkit nearly killed it and before Linkin Park perfected it, the Judgement Night soundtrack gave Rap-Rock one good solid try. And it wasn't too bad.

Tupac Shakur was just beginning what would become his opus. And the former NWA were beginning to take over Hip Hop as single artists and producers. And then, there was this Snoop Dog guy ...

Dre., Snoop, an every angrier 2Pac. They were a blessing and a curse. Because before gangsta rap took over. Before it became a parody of itself. before hip hop all sounded the same; it sounded completely different! For three, maybe four good years. And then poof!

There was still great stuff. Outkast, Missy, Wu Tang ... but the variety ... the chance for Hip Hop to be anything it wanted ... left the building. For a decade. Maybe more.

Around 2004, producers like Pharrel and the Neptunes, Cee-lo, and Kanye, came back to remind us what Rap had the potential to be before hip hop once again decended into the shallow end of the pool. Back to random thugged out 20 years olds and one-note booty jams.