In this ongoing
feature on Psychobabble, I’ve been taking a close look at albums of the
classic, underrated, and flawed variety, and assessing them Track by Track.
Like most American families, mine spent Christmas with the
usual choir of vinyl carolers: Johnny Mathis and Nat King Cole, and since my
dad loved Rock & Roll as much as I do, Phil Spector’s stable of stars. Most
American homes, however, had no annual carols for my favorite holiday. Mine did
though. As soon as my mom had affixed the final cardboard jack-o-lantern to the
living room windows, I was begging my dad to take his yearly trip down to the
basement and brush the cobwebs off an old record called Spook Along with Zacherley.
