“Hey, Bob, I bet your fans will buy anything. I bet you could release a godawful album that no sane person could listen to with a straight face, and people would still buy it. I bet you cannot come up with an album so bad and so ridiculous that people wouldn’t buy it.”
If someone made that bet, he or she won, but not for lack of trying on Dylan’s part.
I mean, come on. Dylan singing hoary old Christmas chestnuts? Songs you’re sick of hearing by people who sang them well? The album opens up with Dylan croaking away on “Here Comes Santa Claus.” Joined by a choir on the second verse. That’s as far as I made it through that song. Track two: “Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy / Do you hear what I hear?” Said the CD player, “If you don’t hit skip now, I’m going to!”
I couldn’t listen all the way through a single song. Best of all, this allegedly wholesome Christmas album has a Betti Page pinup on the inside cover. All the proceeds go to fighting hunger, but you’re better off buying some groceries and donating them to the local food pantry. You’ll end up wasting food if you listen to it right after eating.
Dylan has released some awful albums but never one that I couldn’t listen to even once. At least we no longer have to have long arguments about which is Dylan’s worst album.