God, I hate this time of year. Getting up in the dark in the morning, setting off to work in the dark in the late afternoon, then spending the evening sitting in the dark in the theatre are bad enough. But then there’s the cold, angular rain, stinging my face as I sit cowering in the porch nursing a roll-up, the office on the phone wanting yet another piece to fill the vast open spaces they so much dread between Christmas and the new year, and even dear Liz, this magazine’s saintly arts editor, wanting early copy because she’s already up to her ears with the yuletide bumper issue. It’s enough to make a cat spit and a theatre critic snarl.
But my role in this column is not to moan. It is to cheer you up, bring happiness into your lives by solving your Christmas present nightmares, as well as suggesting a few treats that you might like yourself. So I will relax my clenched teeth, risk another quick fag on the porch and return as a helpful little ray of sunshine.
That’s better. So on to the first problem. Teenagers — what the hell do you give them? The short answer is that it isn’t worth selecting something yourself. Whatever you choose won’t be cool enough. Indeed, it will by definition be uncool, even if it is something they really wanted, because you gave it to them.
Mercifully, HMV has come to the rescue here with a smart alternative to the old-fashioned record token. It’s a plastic card, which you load up with however much cash you think the recipient is worth. I get one from the Evening Standard for being a judge on its theatre awards and it’s a gift that makes me glow with pleasure. You can spend as little or as much as you like whenever you pop into any HMV shop, an Aladdin’s cave for kids as they sell not just CDs and DVDs but yoof-oriented books, cool T-shirts and computer games as well. Indeed, at our local HMV in Wimbledon they’ve even opened a rather groovy boutique cinema.
Teenagers love these cards because it’s like having their own credit card with the delicious bonus that there is no bill to pay at the end of the month. And, though the young are supposed to regard CDs as ridiculously old-fashioned these days, I’ve noticed that my 16-year-old son and his friends still prefer to buy albums they really want in physical form rather than downloading them. If you want to give something more tangible than a gift-card, I can reveal that the top album choices among 16-year-old middle-class boys this year is the new Muse album, The Resistance, and Kasabian’s West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum. Just check they haven’t already got them.
For serious-minded adults, top-class classical music is now often ridiculously cheap as the cash-strapped record companies try to squeeze the last few pennies of profit out of old releases. Brilliant Classics has a splendid seven-disc set of the Amadeus Quartet in their youthful prime playing quartets by Haydn, Schubert and Brahms for a mere £17.99. A couple of years ago I paid twice that for the same recordings on a different label and it has given many hours of pleasure. Brilliant also has an amazing set of the pianist Alfred Brendel’s acclaimed early recordings in the Fifties and Sixties, a full 35 discs of them. The annotation is pathetic, but it’s a hell of a lot of music for £80 at Amazon and a mere 50 quid if you are able to get yourself to HMV’s flagship store in Oxford Street.
My favourite reissue label, however, is Avid, which puts out splendid CDs at knockdown prices featuring jazz, dance bands, easy listening, early rock’n’roll and popular singers. The artists range from Louis Armstrong to Noël Coward and from that great cornet player Muggsy Spanier to West End musical star Evelyn Laye. A double album in its Essential Collection range costs a mere £3.99 and you can order records, or request a catalogue, by phone (01923 281281) or by going online at avidgroup.co.uk. I have more than 60 of its albums in my collection and cherish them. The sound is usually excellent and postage is free.
For old hippies there are a couple of essential purchases this Christmas. Rhino has recently released Where the Action Is!, a superb and far from predictable four-CD set, chronicling the pop scene in Los Angeles from 1965–8 (£37 from Amazon). And there is a mighty nine-CD Grateful Dead box-set of their complete Winterland concerts in San Francisco in 1973. It costs a colossal £60 so I am hoping some kind fairy godmother will stuff it into my stocking this Christmas. Meanwhile have a cool Yule and a rockin’ new year.
Charles Spencer is theatre critic of the Daily Telegraph.
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