O Come All Ye Faithful

O rose thou art sick:

The invisible worm

That flies in the night

In the howling storm,

Has found out thy bed

Of crimson joy,

And his dark secret love

Does thy life destroy.

—William Blake, 'Songs of Experience,' 1794

(This photograph, and every other Hiss photograph in this post, was taken by Chris Frisina. We were riffing on the cover of Emmylou Harris’ ‘Light of the Stable.’)

The Hiss Golden Messenger holiday album O Come All Ye Faithful came out in December of 2021. It is a record of which I am inordinately proud—I consider it to be one of the deepest in the Hiss catalog—and for all kinds of different reasons, I've been revisiting it lately. It's the season for it, of course, but maybe I'm also moving through a moment of spiritual reckoning—and may we all be so lucky to experience many of these in our lives, and to come out on the other side wiser—that feels best soundtracked by contemplative music. Even music I made myself.

O Come All Ye Faithful was the second Hiss Golden Messenger album of 2021, following quickly on the heels of Quietly Blowing It, which was released in June. When it was announced, this is what the press release said:

Conceptualized and written during the chaotic fall months of 2020, O Come All Ye Faithful is a meditation on grace, loss, hope, and community. Hiss Golden Messenger leader, songwriter, and vocalist M.C. Taylor talks about the inspiration for the record: “Big, brash holiday music—the type that we hear in big-box stores in the middle of December—has never resonated with me, and this past year it felt absolutely dissonant. I wanted to make a seasonal record that felt more in step with the way that I, and so many others, experience this time of year: quiet, contemplative, searching, and bittersweet.” Taylor adds, “The intention was to make a seasonal record with vibe.”

That was the truth, but it wasn't the entire truth. Not that press releases are obligated to tell the entire truth; as I understand them, they're generally another method of myth-making in a business that loves myth. The fuller truth is that when I began to conceptualize a Hiss Golden Messenger holiday record around December of 2020, on the brutal heel of COVID, standing in line at Target with the overhead speakers blaring Michael Buble, trying to find some sense of normalcy, I was suicidal.

I'm sorry if that triggers some readers, but I've spent enough time in therapy now to know that bringing our darkest impulses out into the light is the first step towards some kind of healing and mental rewiring. When I say that I think O Come All Ye Faithful is one of the deepest records in the Hiss catalog, it's because I know now that it was coming from a place that was serious and potentially fatal to me, and writing and assembling this music, the main purpose of which was finding light and some slivers of hope was, some days, the one tangible thing that I felt like I could hold onto.

(Me and Chris Boerner.)

I continue have my days, and my episodes, and I'm trying to not be so afraid to talk about them. At this point in our collective social media timeline, I've developed something of an allergy to big, public revelations. I often don't buy them, or maybe don't believe their main intention isn't simply to drive clicks. But also, for me, here, it feels important to just be able to say publicly that the idea of suicide has been with me for a long time. That is a huge and terrifying thing to say, and I've got many voices inside me, even now right at this moment, that tell me how cheap it is to say it here. But it feels important. And the creation of O Come All Ye Faithful was helpful for me in this particular battle, even if I'm not entirely sure I could have articulated it thusly at the time I was making it. I hoped that it would help people, and that it could make them feel a little better, as it was doing for me. Listening now to a song like “Hung Fire” (a phrase which, incidentally, refers to when the trigger of a gun is pulled but it doesn't fire) with three years perspective, it's pretty clear to me where I was at.

Things were bad, if we're being honest

Gave it away, stood on the corner

I was down on my knees looking for something

I get why people pray now

Down at the Mission they're ringing the bells

“Come All Ye Faithful,” “Joy to the World”

St. Nick's at the racetrack giving it Hell

Trying to make it rain with his paycheck

Some out-of-work boxer's looking for a job

Down the Red River, setting fires

It's Christmas, baby—thank God we made it

All the savage angels who run us like dogs

Gun to my head but it hung fire

It's Christmas, baby—thank God we made it

It's Christmas, baby—I'm glad we made it

I've been blessed to be surrounded by incredible, intuitive musicians ever since I started Hiss Golden Messenger, and the band that was with me in the studio for O Come All Ye Faithful—Matt McCaughan on drums; Cameron Ralston on bass; Devonne Harris on keys; and Chris Boerner and I playing guitars—had the perfect alchemy to make these songs work. I also have to give special credit to Chris Boerner, who also engineered the record, and Scott Hirsch, who mixed it, for the way they made the record sound. The acoustic instruments in particular sound exactly the way I needed them to. I also have to point out just how special the wind instruments and arrangements are, all of which were played by our gifted friend Matt Douglas.

(Cameron Ralston. who is also my partner in Revelators Sound System. Cam feels like my brother.)

(Chris Boerner. Incredible musician, human, and very deep friend. We sometimes call him Uncle Frank.)

(Devonne Harris. About as heavy as they get. Perfect pitch. Plays in Butcher Brown and does his own thing as DJ Harrison. Look him up sometime.)

(Matt McCaughan. Incredible drummer and exceptional human being. As funny a person as I’ve ever met. Has played drums on most Hiss Golden Messenger records.)

OK. Deep breath. I think that's what I have to say about O Come All Ye Faithful right at this moment. Broad strokes. In considering this album, I did go looking for the original demos that I made in my home studio, and I actually found them on a old drive in the bottom of a drawer. Sometimes you'll read about how the original, unvarnished demos of a record are so much better than the actual album. I don't think that's the case here, but they're really cool and very intimate, and listening to them brought back a lot of memories of a time when I was trying to figure out how to take a beautiful song like “O Come All Ye Faithful” or “Silent Night” or Creedence Clearwater's “As Long As I Can See the Light” and make it feel small and personal and consistent with what I was attempting to create. I'm glad that I was able to do that. Paid subscribers—and my God, I'm so sorry to even use that phrase considering how serious this missive feels—can listen to a bunch of the O Come All Ye Faithful demos below the paywall.

Last thing: Clearly I love holiday music; at least the good stuff (and yes, eye of the beholder and all that). I mean, of course I feel that way, I just spent lots of your time talking about my own holiday album. Anyway, for the past several years I’ve kept an ever-evolving holiday playlist (or mixtape as I’m trying to call them in homage to those holy relics of yore). Some of these songs reference Christmas or the high holy days specifically; some just feel like this time of year to me. As the dark settles in early and you gather with your people around the light, maybe Hissmastime is Here could be a fitting soundtrack. And for deep holiday music heads, what am I missing? Taking notes in the comments.

Be good to yourself. Go easy. Thank you for being here with me.

MCT