Irving Berlin wrote “White Christmas” in 1940 and Bing Crosby first recorded a version of it in 1942. Crosby’s version was an immediate success. In fact, the song was so popular that the original master tapes from the 1942 session became damaged due to it being played so much and being passed around to many different radio stations. Crosby re-recorded “White Christmas” in 1947 because of the damage done to the ’42 master tapes and it is this version—the ’47 version—that we have all grown up on.
History lesson aside, Bing Crosby’s version of “White Christmas” is likely the defining Christmas song for most people. It is as timeless as “Ave Maria” or “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Its timelessness also lies in the fact that over the years thousands of artists have done a cover of Mr. Berlin’s song and all of them have failed to come close to matching the beauty, somberness, and sentimentality of Crosby’s recording.[1]
Like most Christmas music written in the early ’40′s, “White Christmas” was written with a definite undertone in mind in which the lyrics were made to represent a sense of hope and normalcy for the troops in the European and Asian theaters, as well as to their families back home dealing with the separation during the season (“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas/With every Christmas card I write”). This song is actually quite sad.[2] And add to this Crosby’s somber vocals and you have a song that, on the surface, should probably have never become as iconic as it is. But the reality is that because Crosby’s somber crooning is intermixed with such beautiful background music (and beautiful background vocals by the Darby Singers) it hit a collective nerve with soldiers who were deployed far away, the families struggling and coping here at home, and everyone else in between.
This song more than speaks for itself, and the timelessness of it will probably never waver to any great degree anytime soon. But I feel inclined to finish this post by writing a few words about the picture of Bing Crosby that resides at the top of this post.
There is something about that picture that seems so carefree and fun—his hat is slightly cocked to the left side of his head; the drink in his hand, presumably toasting whoever is taking the photograph; the sea of people and bottles of booze within an immediate vicinity of Bing’s table—it can all make one think of old family photos. I know that for me personally it makes me think of my grandparents and how my grandfather most likely had a similar-looking suit. Or how there are probably numerous pictures of parties in which my grandmother can be seen in the background talking or laughing with someone. There is something about old black and white photographs of parties that can make one try to assimilate the strangers in it to your own family.
Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas” is the musical equivalent of an old black and white photograph: it does not contain any direct reference to you, but rather it acts as a catalyst to unlocking the memories of our families that are abstractly stored away in our minds for about eleven months out of the year.
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[1] For what it’s worth, I think that Darlene Love’s version of “White Christmas” is excellent but it still pales in comparison to Crosby’s in the overall scheme of things.
[2] It wasn’t until after the war that the lines about being in L.A. and longing to be up north were added.
