Why A Christmas Album Barbra Streisand Still Defines the Holidays After 50 Years

Why A Christmas Album Barbra Streisand Still Defines the Holidays After 50 Years

It was 1967. Barbra Streisand was already a phenomenon, a force of nature with a voice that could shatter glass or soothe a fever. But a holiday record? People weren't sure. Back then, Christmas albums were often seen as easy cash-ins, a way for artists to coast through the winter on recycled carols. Then came A Christmas Album Barbra Streisand released, and honestly, the game changed forever.

It didn't sound like Bing Crosby. It didn't sound like Sinatra. It sounded like Brooklyn, Broadway, and a dash of genuine madness.

The Record That Broke the Christmas Mold

Most singers approach holiday music with a certain reverence that can, frankly, get a bit boring. Barbra didn't do boring. When she sat down to record A Christmas Album Barbra Streisand, she brought Marty Paich and Ray Ellis along for the ride. These weren't just "arrangers." They were architects of sound.

You’ve heard "Jingle Bells." Everyone has. But you haven’t heard it like this unless you've spun this specific record. It’s manic. It’s fast. It’s basically a vocal Olympic sprint. She speeds through the lyrics with a playful, almost frantic energy that reflects the actual chaos of the holidays. It shouldn't work. On paper, it’s a mess. In reality, it’s one of the most iconic covers in music history.

That's the magic of this 1967 masterpiece. It balances the absurd with the sublime. One minute she’s racing through a winter wonderland, and the next, she’s delivering a version of "Ave Maria" (the Gounod version, specifically) that feels like a religious experience regardless of your actual faith.

The Sound of 1960s Perfection

The production value here is staggering. We’re talking about a time when Columbia Records spared no expense. They had the orchestras. They had the high-end studios. But more importantly, they had Barbra at her absolute vocal peak.

Her phrasing is what really gets me. In "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," she lingers on notes just a second longer than you expect. She makes "muddling through" sound like a profound emotional triumph. It’s not just a song; it’s a three-minute play.

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Interestingly, the album was recorded during a period of massive transition for her. She was filming Funny Girl. She was a new mother. She was, quite literally, the biggest star on the planet. Yet, when you listen to the tracks, there’s an intimacy there. It feels like she’s singing to you in a wood-paneled living room, even when the strings swell to a crescendo.

The Tracklist That Defied Expectations

She didn't just stick to the hits. Sure, you have "The Christmas Song" and "White Christmas." But she dug deeper.

Take "The Best Gift." It’s a simple, beautiful song written by Lan O’Kun. It’s not a traditional carol, but it fits perfectly because it captures the sentiment of the era. Then there’s "Sleep in Heavenly Peace" (Silent Night). She strips it back. It’s haunting. It’s a reminder that beneath the glitz, she’s one of the greatest technical singers to ever walk the earth.

  1. "Jingle Bells?" High speed.
  2. "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas?" Heartbreaking.
  3. "The Lord’s Prayer?" Operatic power.

It covers every base.

Why We Are Still Talking About This in 2026

You might wonder why a record from the late sixties still tops the charts every December. It’s simple: authenticity.

Modern holiday albums are often over-processed. They use Auto-Tune to smooth out the edges until the singer sounds like a department store robot. Streisand’s holiday debut is raw. You can hear her breath. You can hear the room. You can hear the slight, intentional cracks in her voice when she reaches for an emotional high note.

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The album has been certified Quintuple Platinum by the RIAA. That’s five million copies in the US alone. And that doesn't even count the millions of streams it racks up the second the temperature drops below 50 degrees. It has become a foundational text for the holidays. If you don't have this record, is it even Christmas?

The Controversy of the Covers

Believe it or not, not everyone loved her "Jingle Bells" at first. Some critics thought it was too much. "Too Broadway," they said. "Too frantic."

But that’s exactly what makes it a Streisand record. She never played it safe. She took a song that had been sung a thousand times and made it hers. She reclaimed the joy and the stress of the season in one go. Even her take on "My Favorite Things"—technically a show tune from The Sound of Music—became a Christmas staple largely because of her inclusion of it here.

She understood that Christmas music is about memory. It’s about nostalgia. By blending the sacred and the secular so seamlessly, she created a soundscape that fits a cathedral just as well as it fits a cocktail party.

A Masterclass in Vocal Dynamics

Let’s talk about "O Little Town of Bethlehem." Most people sing it like a lullaby. Barbra starts it that way, but then she builds. The way she handles the crescendo on the word "everlasting" is something they should teach in music schools. It’s a lesson in breath control. It’s a lesson in knowing when to hold back and when to let the engine roar.

And then there's "Gounod's Ave Maria."

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Honestly, it's intimidating. Most pop stars wouldn't touch it. It requires a range and a purity of tone that few possess. Streisand delivers it with a classical precision that silenced her doubters. It proved she wasn't just a "singer"—she was a musician of the highest order.

Collecting the Vinyl and Modern Versions

If you’re a collector, the original 1967 stereo pressing is the one you want. The cover art is iconic: Barbra in a simple, elegant profile, looking timeless. There have been dozens of reissues, including a beautiful 180g vinyl release recently that captures the warmth of the original master tapes much better than the early 90s CD versions ever did.

Streaming services usually have the "remastered" version. It sounds clean, sure. But if you can, find an old copy. There is something about the hiss of the needle hitting the groove just before those first frantic notes of "Jingle Bells" that makes the eggnog taste better.

Actionable Tips for Your Holiday Playlist

If you want to truly appreciate A Christmas Album Barbra Streisand, don't just shuffle it into a 500-song mega-mix. It deserves better.

  • Listen in sequence: The flow from the high-energy opener to the more reflective middle tracks is intentional. It mirrors the arc of the holiday season itself.
  • Check the credits: Look up Marty Paich. Once you realize he also worked with Ella Fitzgerald and Mel Tormé, the sophisticated "West Coast Jazz" influence on this album starts to make a lot more sense.
  • Compare the versions: If you're a vocal nerd, listen to her 1967 "Silent Night" and then find her live performance of it from the One Voice concert in 1986. The evolution of her voice is fascinating.
  • Host a listening night: Put the record on, turn off the "smart" lights, and just let the orchestration fill the room. It’s an immersive experience that digital files often struggle to replicate.

The legacy of this album isn't just about sales. It’s about the fact that fifty-plus years later, her voice is still the one we want to hear when we're decorating the tree or driving through the snow. It’s a rare piece of art that survives its own era to become a permanent part of the cultural furniture.

To truly experience the depth of Streisand's holiday legacy, seek out the original 1967 vinyl pressing or the high-fidelity lossless digital masters. Pay close attention to the orchestration in "I Wonder as I Wander," which showcases a haunting, folk-inspired side of her talent often overshadowed by her Broadway hits. Finally, incorporate the album into your tradition by playing it start-to-finish during a quiet evening; its sequencing is a deliberate emotional journey that random shuffling destroys.