A few months ago, I opened up about my love of one recent musical: Hadestown. Among the many things that make this pandemic frustrating is the idea that it will be even longer before I see a show that has been formative to me as a creative. To refresh readers, The OBCR is an album that I put on every time that I finish a major project and am preparing to submit. While I have gone on my own personal journey, editing pages into their final form, I take Hadestown as a chance to follow the love story of an artist going through hell to save his betrothed and write the perfect song. Given that Anais Mitchell has spent over a decade fine-tuning the show, it only helps to symbolize the struggle of the individual in a poetic form.
I could spend this whole column talking about how Hadestown is a revolutionary show, that it became one of the first Tony-winning musicals created by one woman. I could even talk about how the final 20 minutes is such an emotional thrill ride that rewards the audience with recurring motifs and heightened emotions that reflect the sacrifice that has been building for the past two hours. While all of this is crucial to why I love Hadestown, I want to remind everyone that I’m not here to talk about THAT musical. While I am going to be referencing it, I’m more talking about the kookiest thing imaginable. With the blessing of Mitchell, Hadestown has officially released a Christmas album.
To be completely honest, there are few things that feel more unnecessary than every individual artist having their version of a Christmas album. This isn’t to say that they’re bad renditions, but there’s something that feels outright cynical and lazy about it. There’s often little self-expression to pull from, mostly impressing with the way you can build through “O Holy Night,” putting a little bass underneath our dear savior’s birth. I know that a lot of people are impressed by this, but eventually, you’re just buying the same 12 songs in a different package. While I respect Leslie Odom Jr. in Hamilton, I can honestly say that I’ll pass on his “Little Drummer Boy” take.
Which made it a curious affair when approaching “If The Fates Allow.” I am a skeptic towards this genre of music, and yet Mitchell and the gang had an interesting enough hook: what if Christmas, but through the vision of The Fates. Don’t expect polished instrumentation. This will be a downright New Orleans jazz, featuring lively horns and banjos playing while the trio harmonizes. Considering how great I think they are on songs like “When The Chips Are Down,” I want to believe that what they’ll do has more soul, more purpose, and make for one of the best Christmas albums of the 21st century.
Again, I am not a connoisseur. I couldn’t properly compare “If The Fates Allow” to the dozens of other highly revered Christmas albums. I wouldn’t even be able to recognize what makes the best renditions of “Auld Lang Syne” if I took a genuine interest. At a certain point, it all feels like public domain material, where we all get to share in the wonderful lyricism and realize that these songs aren’t necessarily about singing them perfectly. They’re about comfort and recognition, making the holidays feel more alive and meaningful.
But, in all sincerity, there is enough of a hook here that I think it works perfectly. Whereas it would be hacky if something like Dear Evan Hansen made a Christmas album, Hadestown has enough of deeper intent behind making it work. On the surface, it’s the fact that we’re getting a jazzed up interpretation, where the familiar is given something more upbeat and clever. The harmonies get to challenge the rhythm, and most importantly… it sort of fits the theme of the show. Considering that it’s about musicians trying to feel less lonely in the world, there’s something bittersweet about the undertone of this whole project.
With a sound that bends more towards folk and jazz, the music has a bit of a melancholic vibe. The Fates (Jewelle Blackman, Yvette Gonzalez-Nacer, Kay Trinidad) sound like they’re coming from a dreary little bar, watching everyone pile in and looking for an escape. It begins with their first song “Thank God It’s Christmas,” a cover of the Queen song that finds an exploration of loneliness being given an upbeat twist, able to mix in hushed tones as it prepares audiences for a Christmas album that may be largely covers, but has strange precedence to 2020 especially.
As they sing “Oh my friends it’s been a long hard year,” you have no choice but to appreciate the irony. In a year that has brought forth plenty of trials and tribulations, making it to December feels even more like a personal challenge. When they sing “Thank God It’s Christmas,” it’s not so much a celebration of the holiday, but the revelation that we’re alive today, ready to celebrate. For as much as the world outside has torn us down, we have this day to be reminded of what we’re thankful for. Again, considering that Hadestown is a story about the personal sacrifices in our lives, it feels like a song that could’ve been written into the show. It’s to The Fates’ credit that it sounds so authentic, so full of pain and hope, anticipating what is coming up next.
Everything that works on the first song becomes more apparent as the album continues. These aren’t generic, upbeat covers that are more impressive as vocal exercises. There’s emotion and depth along with the typical sense of playfulness as The Fates navigate tracks like “Sleigh Ride” and “Come Healing” (featuring Patrick Page). The way that the orchestration sounds like a hushed wind behind the vocals in the latter track only adds to the folkloric nature of these interpretations, serving as an engagement with music that is actually building on personality, proving the malleability of these tracks.
The sole original song, written by Mitchell, is “Song of the Magi” which pulls from The Nativity Story. It repurposes the story of The Fates as The Three Wise Men, detailing their journey to visit Baby Jesus. It’s a sweet and tender song that is a bit understated, especially when compared to the rest of the soundtrack. Along with the traditional number “Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming Purple,” it’s the quiet part where the singers’ somberness shines the brightest, allowing for a small rumble of the soul.
To be honest, the first half of the album feels closer to the novelty that one expects from a project like this. It’s by no means bad, but up to this point, it captures a melancholic take on the holidays that helps to provide some solace. Even the way that the Hadestown supporting cast is featured feels more like a lark, where Page appears almost like a sting to “Come Healing.”
It’s with “Purple Snowflakes” that the album becomes more exciting. Much like the Queen cover earlier, the greatest thing that I appreciate is that they’re not pulling from the most obvious songs. This particular number comes from Marvin Gaye, which is a joyful, fleeting track that gives way to one of my favorite covers of the Elvis Standard “Blue Christmas.” Of course, the most enjoyable part is that Andre De Shields takes lead on vocals, The Fates accompanying on harmonies while creating this rousing interpretation that best captures the Hadestown feel. This is what it sounds like to experience the crew having fun with the holidays, finding ways to liven up the crowd.
For me, “Winter Song” is the best track on the album. For starters, it features a duet between Reeve Carney and Eva Noblezada that captures the longing Orpheus and Eurydice shared throughout the story. It’s sincere, aching with deeper pain as each of them dreams of making it through winter, getting out of the cold, and finding something warm in each other’s embrace. It’s the song that has the most heart, embodying a vulnerability that comes with the holidays. We all want to feel loved, and the symbolism of escaping the winter to find it among the snow is no different from entering Hadestown to find it. And, if that wasn’t good enough, it’s a song written by the great Sara Bareilles of Waitress fame.
Among the remaining highlights is a cover of The Dap-Kings’ “8 Days (Of Hanukkah)” which adds swing to the story of the beloved Jewish holiday. As it recalls mythology, it shows how inclusive the season has become. You enjoy hearing about each other’s holidays and the willingness to make it all one raucous celebration. I also love “Twas the Night” which turns the Clement Clarke Moore story into an enjoyable three-part harmony that details a visit from Santa. It’s the pageantry that you’d expect from The Fates and the winking moment that derails from music and goes for an enjoyable show.
Closing out the album is “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” from Meet Me in St. Louis (1944), which was always a bittersweet song. Still, even in the timid tone, The Fates manage to lift the song up, finding an optimistic parting tone for the listener. As the song gets to the verse that gives the album its title, it feels like they wink at the audience, knowing that The Fates have existed throughout history, guiding audiences on their path towards meaning and purpose. It also leaves the listener on a positive note, encouraging everyone to have a Merry Little Christmas.
I understand that this isn’t a Hadestown album, and yet in some ways, it feels like the perfect expansion of the universe. Even if this is just an excuse for Mitchell and the crew to record a bunch of songs, you’re enamored by their chemistry, the way that the orchestra sounds like a jazz and swing band mixing it up to play a holiday gig. As the various musicians (including Amber Grey on “The Longest Winter”) sing, there is a community experience in it. Even if you read it just as a Christmas album, there’s something organic to everything. This isn’t mistaken for a hollow cash grab. It feels like there was a genuine effort put into everything, and that detail goes a long way.
While I plan to amp up my Christmas coverage in December, I doubt that I will really be covering most Christmas standards albums because they rarely offer themselves to criticism. I don’t fault anyone who likes those soundtracks and find comfort in having them on in the background. I personally listen to this and feel inspired by what I hear. Every note feels like it’s repurposing the familiar and making it personal. “If The Fates Allow” goes above and beyond what this type of album usually does, and I can only hope it continues to grow on me, becoming a new classic for every holiday season. With the inaugural listen being a complete success, I’m confident that my time with it isn’t finished yet.
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