The Christmas album is an American phenomenon that doesn’t really exist in British music. Dating back to Frank Sinatra and Elvis Presley in the late 50s, it has long been a regular part of the business – with even Bob Dylan having a go in 2009.
Ben Folds hasn’t done one before and, not surprisingly for this most inventive and wry of songwriters, his first is not a straightforward celebration of the clichés of the season, but a collection of songs now bittersweet, now sardonic, always with his poignant storytelling eye. It’s also something of a game of two halves, the understated ambiguity of Folds’ originals giving way to some less successful covers of Christmas standards that I could happily have done without.
There are a couple of inspired instrumental numbers, including the opener, “Little Drummer Bolero”, a piano solo redolent of “Hospital Song” from The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner. A piano solo in 7/4 sets up the tone of wistful melancholy that underpins much of what follows, and is utterly beautiful.
The next few songs are some very good – if not absolutely top-notch – Folds, both lyrically and musically. “Sleepwalking through Christmas” has a gentle swing and dreamy harmonica behind a lyric about someone spending Christmas alone, “dashing to the loo with my phone”. In “Me and Maurice”, Maurice is a dog, enjoying a Christmas walk past “last night's air pump Santas” all “frozen and deflated/Hungover and sad”, while Maurice’s owner clutches “a full green bag of shame”. It’s bleak, but funny and well-observed.
“Christmas Time Rhyme” channels early Cardigans with an infectious rhythmic shuffle and Hammond organ solo and memories of childhood – “there's buns in the oven, there's change in the air”. “We Could Have This” features Lindsey Kraft, who opened for Folds on a recent tour, and whose light voice adds a sweetness to what is the most uncomplicatedly optimistic number.
Things tail off a bit in the final four tracks. “The Christmas Song” (“Chestnuts roasting on an open fire”) is the first nod to the customary inclusion of seasonal standards, accompanied here by acoustic guitar, unusual for Folds. It’s fine, but I’m not sure we need another version. Burt Bacharach’s “The Bell That Couldn’t Jingle” is as near as I’ve ever got to being annoyed by a Folds song – immediately capped by the next track, “Xmas Aye Eye”, in which he supposedly turns to AI to help with the lyrics (“I am AI! I am AI! I am AI! I am AI!”), the music is all jittery electronic beats and clavinet. If “The Bell That Couldn’t Jingle” flirted with annoyingness, this goes all the way.
Things pick up a bit for the closer, the Mills Brothers’ 50s classic “You Don’t Have to Be a Santa Claus”, here including barbershop backing vocals, jazzy harmonies, shuffling drums, and a Christmas Message: “You don't have to wait till Christmas day to bring your Christmas cheer/Because you can make believe it's Christmas day any day of the year.” It’s unobjectionable, but a bit by-numbers.
So Sleigher is not vintage Folds, but a couple of songs are up there. If you have half an hour to spend on listening to it, I would recommend doing the first half twice and skipping the second. Better still, go and savour Folds’ glorious 2023 album What Matters Most”, his best since 2010.
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