Hey, are you looking for a fun Christmas album? Start by steering clear of this skin-crawling, insipid album from the Irish Tenors. You know the story here: Pavarotti/Domingo/Carreras bring opera to the masses, play Dodgers Stadium, make a zillion dollars, etc. The next thing you know, we’ve got Three Australian Tenors, Three Canadian Tenors, Three Chinese Tenors, and these guys, the Irish Tenors (yes, there are three of them—but, hey, if you want to see the Twelve Irish Tenors, they’re waiting for you in Branson, Missouri). The Irish Tenors, PBS mainstays, have had their share of success within this phenomenon, even after “Mr. Danny Boy” himself, John McDermott, left the group. The remaining singers, Anthony Kearns, Finbar Wright, and Karl Scully, are unimpeachably accomplished vocalists, but that doesn’t make Christmas, their new holiday offering, particularly tolerable amid its unimaginative, lugubrious arrangements and unconvincing attempts at yuletide pop songs like “Jingle Bell Rock”. You’ve heard all of this before but in far more tasteful fashion from their more famous Spanish and Italian counterparts.
// Notes from the Road
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