OldiesButGoodies

Country

Alan Jackson – O Come, All Ye Faithful

O Come, All Ye Faithful

Introduction:

O Come, All Ye Faithful is a beloved Christmas carol that has been cherished for centuries. Its origins can be traced back to 18th-century France, where it was first sung in Latin as “Adeste Fideles.” The exact authorship remains uncertain, although it is believed to have been written by a French priest named Jean-François Wade. The melody, which is believed to be of Gregorian chant origin, adds to the song’s timeless appeal.

The carol’s lyrics express the joy and anticipation of the birth of Jesus Christ. It invites all believers to come and worship the newborn king, emphasizing his divinity and the hope he brings to the world. The song’s popularity has transcended cultural and religious boundaries, making it a staple of Christmas celebrations worldwide.   

In 1997, country music star Alan Jackson released a version of “O Come, All Ye Faithful” on his Christmas album, Let It Be Christmas. His rendition features a simple, acoustic arrangement that highlights the song’s traditional beauty and emphasizes its spiritual message. Jackson’s heartfelt vocals and the inclusion of a children’s choir further enhance the carol’s emotional impact, making it a cherished addition to Christmas music collections.

Video:

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On April 6, 2016 — the very day he turned 79 — Merle Haggard took his final breath after calmly telling his family, “Today’s the day.” No dramatic hospital chaos. No public spectacle. Just a man who had always lived on his own terms choosing to meet the end the same way. His departure was as deliberate and unshaken as the outlaw spirit that defined him. While the world mourned, Haggard exited quietly — steady, self-possessed, unapologetically himself. And though his voice fell silent that day, it never truly faded. Through songs like “Sing Me Back Home,” his legacy still echoes — raw, haunting, and impossible to forget.

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THE LAST TIME THE CROWD ROSE FOR MERLE HAGGARD — HE WOULD NEVER WALK ONSTAGE AGAIN. They carried him through the doors wrapped in the very flag he once sang about — and in the stillness that followed, there was something almost audible… a fragile echo only lifelong listeners could feel in their bones. Merle Haggard’s story closed the same way it opened: unpolished, honest, and deeply human. From being born in a converted boxcar during the Great Depression to commanding the grandest stages across America, his life unfolded like a country ballad etched in grit, regret, resilience, and redemption. Every lyric he sang carried the weight of lived experience — prison walls, hard roads, blue-collar truths, and hard-earned second chances. Those who stood beside his casket said the atmosphere felt thick, as if the room itself refused to forget the sound of his voice. It wasn’t just grief in the air — it was reverence. A stillness reserved for someone whose music had become stitched into the fabric of ordinary lives. One of his sons leaned close and murmured, “He didn’t really leave us. He’s just playing somewhere higher.” And perhaps that’s the only explanation that makes sense. Because artists like Merle don’t simply vanish. They transform. They become the crackle of an AM radio drifting through a late-night highway. They become the soundtrack of worn leather seats and long stretches of open road. They live in jukebox corners, in dance halls, in quiet kitchens where memories linger longer than the coffee. Somewhere tonight, a trucker tunes in to an old melody. Somewhere, an aging cowboy lowers his hat and blinks back tears. And somewhere in that gentle hum of steel guitar and sorrow, a whisper carries through: “Merle’s home.”

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