A Peanuts Christmas: The 2009 Zunior Holiday Album (2009)

NOW MAGAZINE | December 16-23, '09 | VOL 29 NO 16

The Vince Guaraldi Trio’s much-loved 1965 Peanuts Christmas album is, simply put, perfect. But that hasn’t stopped a handful of Canadian indie stars from putting their own spin on the elegant, whimsical jazz tunes to raise funds for the Daily Bread Food Bank. Cuff the Duke’s Wayne Petti chimes in with a folkie, baroquey What Child Is This, while Jason Kenemy, one of the few to tackle Guaraldi’s accomplished piano parts, gives Christmas Time Is Here a go. Jill Barber offers up a slick, piano-bar rendition of The Christmas Song, while Mike O’Neill goes experimental on his watery Skating, singing “duh-duhs” in lieu of the swift piano melody. Best are Ben Gunning’s intelligent, synth-squealin’ take on Christmas Is Coming, the Violet Archers soul-calming Hark! The Herald Angels Sing, and Dave Merritt and the Quiet Revolution’s Linus And Lucy, played here with a fantastic half-time rhythm. Top track: Linus And Lucy, by Dave Merritt and the Quiet Revolution.

No Hitter (2002)

NOW MAGAZINE, January 16, 2003

After hitting a home run with the Golden Seals' debut, Storybook Endings, Ottawa pop whiz Dave Merritt follows it up with No-Hitter, a collection of new songs, unreleased tunes and bedroom scratchings. The offbeat charm of Storybook Endings remains, as Merritt and his revolving cast of players wind their way through smarter-than-average soft pop, matching subtle hooks with clever turns of phrase. The different recording situations lead to an inevitable unevenness, but for a set of apparent outtakes No-Hitter holds together remarkably well. MATT GALLOWAY

Storybook Endings (2001)

The Toronto Sun, August 4, 2001

"Such mighty gifts in tiny packages come," whispers The Golden Seals' Dave Merritt on 'Letting You Down', halfway through his band's debut album Storybook Endings. The delivery, like so much on this disc, is so calm and gentle that you barely notice at first, but the phrase neatly sums up what is great about the work of Merritt and company. The silk-voiced singer spins deceptively mild songs out of complicated melody and bitingly intelligent folk-pop, using such sonic touchstones as The Beatles, early Squeeze, and Tom Waits -- at his most straight-up -- to create a warm and familiar setting for his sad, sweet, and wistful stories. Even a cover of Captain Beefheart's Frownland fits perfectly into this golden-hued song cycle. With excellent but unglossy production from Andy Magoffin (Two Minute Miracles), Storybook Endings is a superb effort. KIERAN GRANT

EYE Magazine, August 2, 2001

Dave Merritt's Ottawa pop posse turned in the most charming set at this year's North by Northeast, and this little disc shows that they make for some pleasant living-room company as well. While piecing together his favourite Beatle bits 'n' bites -- the warm folkiness of Rubber Soul, the jangly chimes of Revolver and the rousing anthemicism of Abbey Road -- Merritt brings in more than enough cleverness and grit to bypass the turn into twee territory, and his seemingly endless hit parade winds up in the unlikeliest of places: a tender reading of Beefheart's "Frownland" that reveals the romance lurking beneath the Captain's trout mask. Like any good storybook ending, Storybook Endings sends you to sleep with a smile. STUART BERMAN

NOW Magazine, June 14, 2001

A set of sublime soft pop by Ottawa's Golden Seals, fronted by comedian/singer Dave Merritt, was a good place to get into the mood Thursday after an underwhelming glam/trash rip-off set by Cambridge's the Candidates. Merritt's got a remarkably elastic voice, and jokingly insisted that his band would be signed halfway through his third tune. Someone should get on that. MATT GALLOWAY

EYE Magazine, June 14, 2001

You couldn't find a better antidote to club-crawl craziness and music-biz cellphoniness than these Ottawans, who look like they spent their past lives riding the rails during the Great Depression, toothpicks tucked firmly behind their lower lips. And the flashback doesn't end there: the sound of the Seals is pure 1966, full of sweet but not too diabetic skiffle-pop ditties smothered in Fender Rhodes tones that suggest what the Beatles would've sounded like had they brought Billy Preston in for the Rubber Soul sessions instead of Let It Be. And, as if to underscore the Fab-ulousness of it all, the Seals received a full mop-topped salute from roving music-fest mascot Beatle Bob, whose presence they blessed with a set-closing cover of "Getting Better" -- though things were already good enough without it. STUART BERMAN